


One Kiss

by Fireismyelement97



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Marriage Law Challenge, Marriage Law Trope, Post-War, Romance, draco x hermione - Freeform, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-10-12 15:52:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 80,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17470511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fireismyelement97/pseuds/Fireismyelement97
Summary: Hermione Granger is in France drinking away her sorrows when she runs into Draco Malfoy. What starts out as a midnight kiss on New Year's Eve turns into something else entirely when the ministry passes a new law.





	1. Chapter 1

***Disclaimer: I don’t own HP. Obvs, if I did I would be super rich and on a beach atm, instead I am a shop manager that is hoping all sales and gift giving holidays are cancelled next year***

 

Hermione ordered another glass of Firewhiskey. She had apparated to France, Paris to be exact. The magic quarter in Paris was a lot like the one in London, but somehow more French. The music was different as well. It played a smooth French jazz band that had her closing her eyes in satisfaction. The singer’s voice was beautiful, it was a heavy bass with timber. Thanks to her parents taking her on almost yearly vacations to France, she was fluent enough to understand the lyrics.

The bartender returned with another glass. She paid and tipped him extra. He flashed a smile that held something more than politeness in it. Since she was throwing a pity party, she ignored him.

Unbidden her eyes flew to her left hand. Her wedding ring was gone. She had removed it weeks ago, but the divorce hadn’t been finalized until today. On the same day as her legislation to free the house elves was rejected.

With all that baggage in mind, she downed the glass and waved her hand for another. This time, the bartender left the bottle.

“Careful with that, war hero,” he said in nearly perfect English.

Hermione snorted. “Yeah, I’m bloody brilliant.”

“You might want to listen to him, Granger,” a smooth voice said.

A tall figure took the seat next to hers. When Hermione looked over she started to laugh. She was pissed out of her mind. How many drinks had she had?

Blast, she couldn’t remember.

“You alright there, Granger?” Draco said he leaned in closer. She caught a glimpse of his grey eyes, eyes she would know anywhere.

He was not a hallucination brought on by the Firewhiskey after all.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m on holiday. You?” Malfoy’s brows raised and she swore she saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

“Me too.”

“You don’t look like you are on holiday,” the corners of his lips twitched upward.

“Well I am,” Hermione huffed and glared at him. “Why? Don’t I look like I’m having fun?”

She was confident she wasn’t slurring her words and took that as a small victory. She never held her liquor well and verbally sparring with Malfoy required more mental power than she had at the moment. Why was he here? All she wanted to do was get sloshed in peace. She needed this to turn her mind off. Defeat and pain and a growing sense of injustice was building inside of her to the point that her own thoughts were overwhelming her.

And now Malfoy was here destroying her one chance to turn her mind off. To forget and slip into darkness and oblivion. It was a pleasure she never allowed herself and now that she finally let go, something had to ruin it.

More precisely someone.

“No, you look as if you are drowning your sorrows. If we are being honest, are we being honest or would you prefer if I lied to you?”

Hermione looked at him then. Truly looked at him. When had Malfoy ever asked her what she preferred? She couldn’t recall.

Truthfully, Malfoy was virtually unrecognizable as the boy she went to Hogwarts with. He was taller now and had filled out. He wore his hair down in front of his eyes like he had done in fourth year. It suited him better now, it was softer. He no longer looked like the school bully. Instead, he could have been any sophisticated wizard sitting next to her. His robes were black and she could tell just to look at them they were expensive.

Realising, she had taken too long to answer she drew herself up. “You’re right, I am drowning my sorrows and if you plan to be cheerful, I would recommend moving to another seat. Perhaps another bar?”

Malfoy chuckled. “Truthfully,” he said mimicking her phrasing. “I am not feeling particularly cheerful.”

“Good,” Hermione snorted. “Then you won’t mind if I black out?”

“Not at all, assuming I can join you?”  

Malfoy gestured to the bartender and ordered a bottle of Firewhiskey to stay. He filled up Hermione’s glass then his own.

“Thanks, I suppose,” Hermione muttered.

She had a sip.

“Cheers, warhero.”

“Shut up.”

Hermione spent most of her days trying to forget the war. The last thing she needed was Malfoy using that horrible title for her. She didn’t feel like a hero, she felt like her old self had died during those months and the person she was now was someone completely different.

An orphan.

No wonder Harry was always so sassy. The thought alone was enough to make her want to crawl up a wall. She wished she could give her parents their memories back. She missed them so much it hurt. It was like a physical pain. A wound that competed for attention with all of her other wounds.

“What are you hoping to forget, Granger?” Malfoy asked as he stared into his glass. He looked like a man that was looking for answers in all the wrong places.

“Let’s see, the war. That’s a big one,” Hermione was prompted into answering honestly thanks to the liquid running through her veins and lowering her inhibitions. “My parents, who can’t remember me. I obliterated them for their own good, remember?”

“I remember,” Malfoy nodded. “That was brave. Braver than anything I’ve ever done.”

Hermione snorted, unimpressed. She could list on one hand all of the times Malfoy was brave. It was a short list compared to her and her friends. But then again, maybe if she had been brainwashed as a child, she too would have some fucked up ideologies and beliefs. Malfoy, she realized was a git, but at least when he was a child, he was as much a victim of Voldemort and his followers as she was. As an adult, he seemed to be trying to move on. Not that she would have believed it if she hadn’t seen it herself.

“Yeah, well it feels shitty. Then there’s my upcoming divorce.”

“I heard. I’m sorry.”

“Everyone’s heard. Blast Ron and his Quidditch career. If he wasn’t so obsessed with that bloody sport I might have had some privacy post-Hogwarts.”

Malfoy chuckled. “Likely that is the case. You know, I reckon everyone has read about mine as well.”

“Yes, I would say so. It’s all over the tabloids that Daphne Greengrass cheated on you.”

“Charming, little headline isn’t it?” Malfoy downed his glass in one go and refilled it.

“For what it’s worth, I didn’t think it was true.”

“Unfortunately, it is. Divorce is a nightmare, but you’re young and beautiful. I’ve no doubt you’ll actually marry someone that’s worthy of you the second time around.”

Hermione stared at him, dumbfounded. Had Malfoy given her a compliment?

“Are you sloshed?”

“Right and proper. I’ve been drinking since,” he eyed the clock on the wall. “Eleven.”

Hermione laughed. He looked pretty good for a man that had been drinking for the past twelve hours. But that was the entire problem with Malfoy, wasn’t it? He was hot, bloody hot. At Hogwarts, he had been easier to ignore. Sitting next to her on that barstool however, with her imminent divorce lingering in the air, the part of her that was a normal woman with sexual needs made herself known.

It was not a side of herself Hermione ordinarily allowed out to play. But looking at Malfoy now, it was something that burned at her core. He was still tall, but broader than he had been. He had day old stubble that gave him a rugged appearance and his shoulders were broad, so broad. He looked like a GQ model, Hermione’s guilty pleasure was flipping through the muggle magazine when she was bored.

But she could not indulge in such insanity.

“Has it helped?”

“Not precisely, but I forget the details. That’s worth something.”

Hermione grimaced. “Finally, I lost the attempt to push through the house elf liberations act.”  

“Bloody hell, Granger are you still on that?” Malfoy stared at her and broke into a wide grin. He laughed a full, hearty laugh that caught her off guard.

“Of course, I am.”

“You went wrong because they aren’t on your side.”

“Excuse me? I am fighting for their rights.”

“Same old, Granger, just like at Hogwarts. I tried to pay mine and I nearly lost my whole staff. I settled for vacation time and a generous gift every Christmas.”

“That’s appalling,” Hermione gaped at him.

“Yes, keep up Granger. That was years ago, now they all want to be paid. You have to make the elves see why it’s a good thing to be free. Once they want rights, wizards and witches are more likely to side with you because they can see the elves want it too. Otherwise, it’s easy to turn a blind eye and tell yourself they’re happy that way.”

That made a certain amount of sense Mr. Weasley had said something similar to her years or ago, so had Hagrid. That fighting for their rights was useless because the house elves didn’t even want them. It was best just to leave them be because they were happy.

“That almost sounds like common sense,” Hermione said enunciating each word slowly and giving him a suspicious look.

“I believe that was almost a compliment,” he smirked.

“I suppose so.”

Hermione looked at him again. Maybe she had been right years ago, there was more to Malfoy than met the eye.

 

_Years ago she had been trapped in the Malfoy manor dungeon. Bellatrix was torturing her, slicing her skin with her wand and dark magic. Hermione screamed in pain, it was excruciating. She hadn’t known anything could hurt this much._

_The door behind Bellatrix opened. A blonde head poked in. When he saw what he had walked in on, Malfoy froze, his eyes widened. He appeared as surprised by the scene as she was to see him. To his credit, he recovered quickly. He put his finger to his lips and signalled for silence._

_Quickly, before Bellatrix could notice anything was amiss, Hermione turned her eyes back to the ceiling. The torture continued, but knowing help was coming even from such an unlikely party as Malfoy, she scarcely felt it anymore._

_As if she could tell Hermione was no longer mentally present, Bellatrix stopped. Her dark eyes narrowed into angry slits._

_“Are you bored, Mudblood? Am I boring you, Mudblood? Do you have something better to do?” Bellatrix hissed._

_Hermione stared at her with wide, blank eyes. She could scarcely believe she was where she was, let alone comprehend that she was hoping Malfoy of all people might come to her rescue._

_The next instant, a red beam came barreling through the room. It hit Bellatrix in the back and she froze. Paralyzed, she fell to the floor._

_Hermione sat up, clutching her arm and stared at Malfoy. “Thank you.”_

_“It’s not for you, Granger. This madness has gone on for too long.”_

_“You’re afraid,” Hermione said with certainty. “What happened?”_

_“I’ll explain later. First, we need to get out of here. Potter especially, if the Dark Lord arrives before we can escape this war is over and I will die on the wrong side of it when I could have lived.”_

_“Selfish to the very end, I’d say I’m disappointed, but I think I would be more disappointed if you displayed an altruistic side.”_

_Malfoy chuckled._

_Hermione got to her feet and followed him out of the room to free the other prisoners._

“Why did you change sides during the war?”

Malfoy quirked a brow. “Why so curious, Granger?”

“I always felt like you lied and I’ve always been curious. Harry and Ron have a few theories, but I –” she bushed realizing she was about to admit to obsessing over the answer. That it was a puzzle she needed to solve same as any old academic problem.

“But you’re an academic and you require concrete facts.”

Hermione nodded. She would have replied, but she did not want him to see how much he surprised her. Had Malfoy always read her this easily or was the liquor making her transparent?

“I suppose, I finally realized it was all bullshit,” Malfoy said with a haunted look in his eyes. “I saw Mudbloods killed. I saw what happened to Hogwarts, to think I ever thought Dumbledore was the worst thing to happen to that place. Finally, I saw purebloods killed for treason. We bled no different than muggles or muggleborns and I learned no one was safe. That there was nothing and no one that could not die painfully if it suited the cause. It was all a lie.”

“Better late than never.”

“I’m sorry for all the times I’ve called you Mudblood and generally being a dick.”  

“Second apologies are usually excessive,” Hermione replied. “But thank you.”

“I always forget we talked during that eight year.”

“It’s bizarre to think about, right?”

Especially, since they had lost touch as soon as they graduated. Hermione didn’t think she had even seen Malfoy except for on the pages of the newspaper since that day. Every detail of his career as a professional Quidditch player true or false was plastered across the front page. Same as Ron’s life and by extension hers.

“It is, but I remember it was a relief to see another familiar face return. Just as it was a relief whenever I saw you when I was in hiding.”

“Malfoy,” Hermione said in surprise. “I had no idea.”

“Of course, you didn’t. I never told you.”

Malfoy looked down at the glass between his hands, it looked like he was struggling with something.

“What a shame. We could have been friends,” Hermione sighed.

Why did that disappoint her as much as it did? Maybe it was because as much as a git as Malfoy was he was the only other person at Hogwarts she thought might be as clever as she was. He always came in second behind her on tests, but it was never far behind. If it had been any other boy that intellect would have intrigued her. Especially, after Krum. She had truly enjoyed her time with him, but he was not interested in school work or learning. He was kind and she wished him all the best, but he was too much of a physical being for her.

Once upon a time, she had believed Ron was a suitable match. He was kind and clever in a creative way, something she was not. He defended her and was loyal to a fault, but now? Now she was not so sure. All he cared about now was his career as a Quidditch player. He was coming home late and leaving at all hours of the night. Finally, she learned it was because he was having an affair with one of Ginny’s teammates.

How could she have been so blind?

Brightest witch of her generation, yeah right.

“Granger?” Malfoy prodded.

She looked over surprised, he must have been talking for a long while now. Perhaps she was more sloshed than she realized.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I was asking if perhaps we could be friends now.”

“Friends?” Hermione mulled it over for a minute. “That sounds nice.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

Malfoy raised his glass to hers and she touched it to hers before having another sip. A hesitant smile appeared on her lips, she could use a new friend.  

XXX

Draco watched Granger drink. She could throw them back, he gave her that. She had grown prettier since Hogwarts. She always used to be pretty, but now it was as if she had come into herself. She had turned into a beautiful, confident young woman. However, there was something sunken about her shoulders that made him hurt.

Weasley, what a fool.

To have a woman like Granger and give her up?

He was thicker than he ever could have imagined.

And now, Granger had agreed to be his friend. It was more than he had ever dared hope for. He couldn’t say for sure when his crush on Granger had first occurred, but he had always noticed her. Perhaps he was cruel to her because he thought she was cute as a child with her bushy hair. Not that it was something he was ever allowed to voice.

A Malfoy falling for a muggleborn?

His parents would have cast avada kadavra on him or her to make it end. Or perhaps the imperius curse to keep him away from her and maintain their appearance of the perfect pureblood family.

This way of thinking, it used to feel normal to him. As he had gotten older and spent more time with witches and warlocks, who were not pureblood the more sickened he became with himself.

Maybe it had started when she punched him in third year. That had been incredible. He couldn’t say for sure when it turned into something more, but he knew after all these years, he still fancied her.

Friends, it was a place to start.

He saw the clock on the wall neared midnight.

“Care to watch the fireworks with me?” Draco did his best to appear friendly, but he was well aware warm and friendly were not his strong suit.

The Malfoy family was cold. He remembered from when he was a small boy how he learned to read his parents based on the smallest expression, a twitch of the lips or a nod of approval.

Granger did not seem put off. Instead, she smiled back at him. It was a drunk smile, one that was goofy and endearing because it did not match the rest of her sophisticated appearance. Her hair was back in a French twist and she wore pale blue wizarding robes that flattered her more than anything he could ever recall seeing her in.

“I’d like that.”

Malfoy rose to his feet and offered her the crook of his arm. Her expression was both surprised and suspicious, but she tucked her arm through his all the same.

“My mother has some connections in the Ministry, perhaps she can help you with your house elf rights law?” he posed it hesitantly.

Granger’s brown eyes widened and then her expression settled into a scowl. “I don’t think so. Your mother and I – well I don’t think it’s a good idea to put us in the same room.”

“It’s up to you,” Draco cleared his throat. That was a mistake. He had pushed for too much too fast. He had become careless after one victory. He would have to reign it back in.

Clearing her throat awkwardly, Granger seemed determined to keep things civil and dropped the subject.

Another small victory, Draco thought with satisfaction. The street outside was cobbled and filled with witches and wizards. Some of them looked at them in surprise others didn’t appear to recognize them. Something Draco preferred. He didn’t need another article in the paper. Not one about a new affair and certainly not one featuring Granger. He could just picture the Daily Prophet headlines now.

_Former Death Eater finds love with the brightest witch of our age._

_War hero slums after messy divorce._

He could think of a dozen more that were equally terrible. Then again, the idea did hold appeal when he pictured Weasley’s expression. If Weasley saw they were spending time together he was bound to go mental. However, their friendship wasn’t even an hour old and he was not about to risk it. Because there was always the possibility that if Weasley thought he was pursuing Granger he would coming running back to her.

And Malfoy did not think he would be able to compete. His history with Granger was too complicated to compete with one of her oldest friends. All he wanted was a chance.

To distract himself from his gloomy thoughts, he studied Granger as she stared up at the night sky. She was beautiful, she seemed to glow from within.

XXX

Hermione looked at Malfoy and saw that he was already watching her. His cool grey eyes were on her face and she could have sworn she saw something akin to warmth in them. Whatever he was thinking, she could not read it on his face, but made it her blush.

Determined not to be flustered, she returned to staring at the sky. The sky was black filled with stars and the moon was a thin sliver.

“You know, I had almost forgotten it was New Years Eve,” she said more to herself than to Malfoy.

Who she could not figure out what she was doing with anyway. Even more curious, he wanted to be friends. He even offered to use his family’s Ministry connections to help her, what was gong on with him? Was it guilt?

And she didn’t need him for that. After, their initial conversation about it, she already had a new plan in place to change the legislation. She knew it would take time, politics and bureaucracy always took time, painfully so. But she wasn’t about to give up.

“You had? That’s a pity.”

“Guess I’m not really looking forward to going into the new year.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Hermione wanted to kick herself. She must be completely pissed if she was confessing secrets to Malfoy of all people.

“Me either.”

She wrapped her cloaked more tightly around herself.

“I suppose not with a rather public divorce.”

He nodded. “Wait, until that blasted Skeeter finds out about yours.”

“Oh, Merlin’s beard,” she groaned. “I might have to remind her why she is not to print lies about me in that rag of hers.”

Malfoy chuckled. “What did you do to her anyway? I heard rumors you did something to her, but I’ve always wondered precisely what that was.”

Hermione laughed and shook her head.

“Just a friendly conversation.”

Malfoy snorted. He looked as if he had more to say, but before he could the fireworks started. They lit up the night sky in a beautiful display of color. Hermione stared at them transfixed.

“Remember that time I learned ignis fragor before you?” Malfoy asked.

Hermione looked over at him and saw there was a twinkle in his grey eyes.

“What are you talking about? I learned ignis fragor before you,” Hermione huffed.

Ignis fragor was a charmed used to create fireworks. It was beautiful and an extra credit assignment for charms. She had mastered it almost a whole class before him.

“You’re brilliant, Granger I’ll give you that, but I learned that spell before you and you know it.”

“No, I don’t because it was the other way around.”

Hermione felt her competitive streak flare up.

“Are you certain because I seem to recall you turned a furious shade of scarlet and refused to stop trying until you figured it out,” Malfoy said in a drawn out, thoughtful manner.

“Don’t be a dolt! You made that up!”

“Perhaps,” he smirked.

“I knew it, I was never that bad.”

“Actually, you were,” he drawled and winked at her.

Hermione flushed.

The witches and warlocks around them started to count down until midnight in French. A group of levitating trays floated through the crowd with champagne glasses. Malfoy snagged two and passed one to Hermione, who thanked him.

“I guess maybe I was a little bit of a know-it-all,” Hermione confessed as she had a sip of her champagne. “Look where’s it’s gotten me. With no husband to kiss at midnight. I hope Ron is bloody happy.”

“Weasley is a fool,” Malfoy snorted.

A newspaper photographer came round and snapped a photo of them. Startled, Hermione jumped and was certain she would look atrocious in the photo. Perfect, now the French newspapers could run a photo of her jumping. If the reporter was anything like Rita Skeeter the piece would go something like: _War Hero still suffers from PTSD. Frightened by fireworks and startled by former Death Eater._

Perfect, that was exactly what her life needed right now.

“And there are reporters here. My year is complete.”

Malfoy chuckled. “Cheer up, Granger. I’ll kiss you at midnight.”

Cinq, the people around them chanted.

“What?” she exclaimed.

Quatre, trois.

“It’ll give the papers something to write about.”

Deux.

“Are you mental?”

Un.

Malfoy grabbed her by the waist and kissed her. Hermione froze at first. She felt his lips on hers and the warmth from his body. It sent a thrill down her spine. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

Heat pooled through every part of her body. Malfoy kissed her with a passion, she had not known he was capable of. It rocked through her and made sparks dance behind her eyelids.

The sound of a camera flashing broke them apart. Still dazed, Hermione turned toward the newspaper man, who grinned and snapped another picture.

Malfoy leaned down to whisper conspiratorially in her ear. “Who knew you were such an amazing kisser, Granger?”

“Just friends, remember?” Hermione replied with a blush. “And back at you.”

They went back inside arm in arm. The newspaper man grinned and waved at them as they left. Hermione wished him a happy new year in French and kept going. Malfoy smiled and nodded.

At the bar, Hermione had several more drinks as did Malfoy. They had moved from the bar to a booth in the back. All they did was talk and laugh. She hadn’t known Malfoy was funny. With each drink she remembered the kiss and how tempting Malfoy’s lips were. It was a horrifying feeling because it left her caught between the desire to hex him and kiss him again.

They kept drinking until everything was a hazy blur.

XXX

Hermione woke the next morning in an unfamiliar bed. The sheets were silk and she sighed, stretching. The hotel bed was comfier than she remembered it from the night before. She stretched again, spreading her arms out wide.

She hit a warm body, a shirtless body.

Ron?

No, that couldn’t be right.

The man rolled around and pulled her into his arms. Hermione, horrified sat up and was confronted by a blond head of hair. His build was lean yet well-muscled.

Malfoy.

What the bloody hell had she done last night?

She remembered the drinks and the kiss, that blasted kiss.

The kiss!

Panicked, she tried to piece together the night before. It was all a hazy blur. Quickly, she checked under the blanket and saw she wore an unfamiliar shirt and just her panties.

Merlin’s beard, this was bad.

She tried to slip out of bed without waking him, but the second she moved, he woke. Malfoy sat up. He blinked and stared at her. His ordinarily immaculate hair stood up in every direction.

“Granger? What are you doing here?”

“Did we?” Hermione cleared her throat. She couldn’t say the words aloud.

“I don’t know.”

Malfoy’s expression of horror mirrored her own.

 

**If you like this chapter please give it a kudos and leave a comment!**

**\- Izzy**


	2. Chapter 2

***Disclaimer: I don’t own HP, if I did I too would live in Edinburgh***

 

She tried to slip out of bed without waking him, but the second she moved, he woke. Malfoy sat up. He blinked and stared at her. His ordinarily immaculate hair stood up in every direction.

“Granger? What are you doing here?”

“Did we?” Hermione cleared her throat. She couldn’t say the words aloud.

“I don’t know.”

Malfoy’s expression of horror mirrored her own.

“We would remember that, right?” Hermione asked and even she heard the uncertainty in her own voice. She could feel it mirrored on her face.

Malfoy looked as confused as she felt.

“I would think we would remember parts of it at least, Granger.”

Hermione took a deep breath. Think, Hermione think. You’re the brightest bloody witch of your generation. You should be able to figure out if you had scandalous sex with your former enemy.

And was it her imagination or was Malfoy sending her insinuating looks and smirking? Was he flirting? No, the very idea was ludicrous. He might not be as prejudiced as he once was, he even wanted to be friends, but to him, she felt certain she would always be a Muggleborn.

“Very well, let’s be logical about this,” she said speaking as firmly as she could manage. “I am clothed, sort of you. Are you undressed?”

Malfoy looked down and when he moved the sheets, she caught a glimpse of blue boxers.

“In the literal sense of the word, I suppose I am.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “There must be a spell to recover our memories. No, wait, I’ve got it! There’s a potion! The Draft of Remembrance.”

Malfoy smiled. “You know, I believe you are right. You must be off your game, Granger it took you almost five minutes to come up with that solution.”

She felt her temper flare up at the condescension in his voice. Even when he gave her a compliment, he had to be a git about it.

Bloody Malfoy, how could she ever have been so stupid as to think they could be friends?

Friends?

It was absurd. Harry was her friend and Ron used to be her friend. Malfoy was a bully in school and apparently, he was no better now.

“What’s yoru excuse, Malfoy? You were no slouch in potions or perhaps you were simply Snape’s favorite and he let you off easy?”

Malfoy scowled at her. “I’m having a rough month. Give me a break, yeah?”

Hermione turned her chin up. She summoned her spell book. She flipped through the pages efficiently and quickly. It wasn’t long before she stumbled onto the potion. It was a rather simple concoction.

“Did you find it?” Malfoy tried to sneak a peak over her shoulder, but she pulled the book away. He held his hands up in surrender and moved away.

She ignored him as he put on a dressing robe. She skimmed through the instructions with her index finger checking off each ingredient.

“I should have everything I need in my hotel room. I’ll brew it and bring it back,” she announced.

“I’ll help, Granger.”

“Why? Don’t you trust my potion skills?”

“Is that what I said? And does it matter what we did or didn’t do last night?”

Hermione gave him a hard, assessing look. “I for one am not in the habit of getting black out drunk and I’d like to know what I did. Why don’t you want to know?”

He sneered in derision. “Whether we shagged or not, Granger what’s the harm? We’re both divorced adults. Perhaps we got a little carried away, but it’s nothing we both haven’t done before, I’m sure.”

“Speak for yourself,” she sniffed. Her lips pursed into a thin line as suspicion crept up into her. “I know what’s wrong. You’re afraid to learn you ‘shagged’,” she spat the word at him. “A Mudblood?”

The word left a nasty taste in her mouth.

“Bloody hell, Granger,” Malfoy shook his head. “Did I say that? I don’t care about your blood status.”

Hermione studied him before deciding she couldn’t tell if he meant it or not.

“You can do what you like, but I am going to get my memories back.”

She walked out.

“Granger!”

Was the last thing she heard before she slammed the door shut on him.

Once she was out in the hallway, she Apparated back to her room. She did not like that she was staying in the same hotel as Malfoy. That was a coincidence she did not need.

Still, being back in her own room helped. She had chosen this hotel because it was old fashioned and quaint as well as private. It was hidden away in the least trafficked area of the Parisian magic quarter.

The room’s walls were painted an emerald green. Portraits wandered the walls and there was a canopy feather bed.

A red-haired lady came running into one of the paintings.

“Dear gurl, why did you leave that ‘andsome young man behind?” the painting squawked in English with a heavy French accent.

“Because he is a git.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Zilly gurl.”

Hermione ignored her and took out the cauldron. She chopped up the herbs and roots required for the spell. The cauldron simmered pleasantly, and she was pleased that she never travelled without the basic things she might require for magic. She could have left it behind and summoned it or conjuring it, but she preferred the items she used everyday. It might be a Muggle habit from her childhood.

Ron used to say it was because she was too organized for her own good. Then laugh about how that was precisely the reason he and Harry needed her. Those were unpleasant memories, so Hermione pushed them aside and put the finishing touches on the potion.

It needed to simmer for half an hour and she went to take a shower in the meantime.

“’Ee wanted to know why you left!” the woman in the painting cried when she left the room.

Hermione ignored her too.

XXX

Malfoy was pleased when the painting returned.

“Well what did she say?”

“A zank you would be niiiice,” the woman huffed. “She didn’t say anything. She iz steamed.”

“Thank you,” Draco intoned. Blasted painting as usual they were more bothersome than they were helpful. “What room number is she in?”

The painted woman laughed. “I am not telling you that. If a woman wantz to be left alone, you respect that until she iz ready to accept your apology.”

Draco glowered at her. “Thank you.”

Fuming, he went downstairs to breakfast. The last thing he expected to find having tea in the corner looking as angry as him, was Hermione. Her brown hair stood up in a bushy mess. It was endearing, reminding him of her more frazzled exam looks at Hogwarts.

He retrieved a cup of tea from the beverage stand. Then he sat down next to her before she could see him. Fortunately, for him the ordinarily observant Hermione looked preoccupied as well as irritated. A relief because otherwise she would have likely left or hexed him the second she saw him.

Instead, she looked up at him startled when she did notice him. Her brow furrowed together and her lips pursed together in a thin line. This was familiar ground for him indeed. It really was as if they were back at Hogwarts, back to hating each other. Or that strange animosity that bordered on friendliness in their eight year until eventually they had become both study partners and somewhat rivals regarding grades.

It was peculiar, but he had come to depend on Hermione in that year. It seemed now, maybe she had grown dependant on him as well as a sort of replacement for Potter and Weasley. He supposed it made sense, they were more familiar with each other than the other returning students.

Hatred, it could bond people.

“Why aren’t you in your room brewing the potion?”

“I showered for too long. The blasted thing spoilt. Now I am collecting myself before fixing it.”

Draco couldn’t hide his surprise. “You bungled a potion? I must say, I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Very amusing. I am not myself.”

“Forgetting the previous night, it can do that to a person.”

Hermione’s lips quirked upwards almost as if she wanted to smile, but would not allowed herself to do so.

“I’m sorry, did you want something?” she asked fixing him with an annoyed stare.

“I was wondering if you had remembered something or if you simply wanted to do some sightseeing while you were here?”

“No, thank you,” Hermione sniffed. “I am actually leaving today.”

Draco felt disappointment he refused to acknowledge blossom inside of him. Like the idiot he was, he had let himself hope that Hermione might stay a few extra days. That perhaps he might be able to spend some time with her, but naturally that hadn’t happened. Because he was him and nothing good ever happened to him.

“Suit yourself.”

He got to his feet and left with a nod. He might have imagined it, but he thought he heard Hermione sigh behind him. Was that disappointment he heard?

XXX

Hermione returned to her room. She felt shitty. That was entirely Malfoy’s fault. If he hadn’t stormed off like a diva, she would have told him she had to return to work in the morning. Not that he had bothered to let her explain.

Instead, she busied herself with redoing the potion. Halfway through she remembered something from the night before. The memory returned in a broken flash.

 

_She and Malfoy stumbled into his hotel room. Their lips were locked together in a heated kiss. She was mussing up his hair and his hands were on her lower back. He broke the kiss once, to smile a slow lazy smile that filled her with heat._

With a gasp, Hermione put the potion ingredients away. It was starting to appear more and more as if she and Malfoy had slept together. That was a possibility that filled her with dread. How on earth could she possibly explain that to herself or anyone else? This was definitely one of those things that were better left alone.

Firmly, she packed away the potion ingredients. She prided herself on knowing and learning what she didn’t know, but this? This was one time she was fine living in uncertainty.

XXX

Hermione returned to work the next morning. The ministry of magic was as it always had been, bustling and teeming with witches and warlocks arriving to work at all hours. Normally, it was one of her favorite parts of the morning, but today it was depressing. She felt like everyone was staring at her. That everyone knew about her latest failure. The golden girl, the brightest witch of their generation had failed miserably in her passion project. To make matters worse, she knew she felt sure people knew about her whatever the hell it was with Malfoy.

She arrived flustered in her office. She closed the door behind her, barely sparing a greeting for her assistant Andrew. He was a young warlock that was bright and good at his job. She was trying to help him get transferred to the department for Misuse of Muggle Artefacts, it was his real passion and as someone, who had lived and breathed the rights of Magical Creatures for years, she understood passion.

Andrew also happened to be one of her few good friends. So she was not surprised when he came barging into her office with two cups of tea and a copy of the Daily Prophet in his hand. He flashed a mischievous smile and put the mug down on her desk. Then he followed that gesture by flopping the newspaper down as well.

“Are you keeping secrets, Hermione?” he asked with amusement in his voice.

Sighing, Hermione picked up the paper. On the front page was predictably enough a photo of her and Malfoy, snogging. Bloody hell. The photo was in black and white. It showed them in a passionate embrace that caught her by surprise. Their photographed selves were really going at it in a way that made her blush.

The headline read: _Further Scandal!_ _Golden Trio Member Snogs Former Death Eater._ Predictable was the first thought that came to mind. Then she continued on and it got worse.

 

**After a messy divorce from Quidditch star and war hero, Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger finds solace in the arms of her former enemy. Weasley was allegedly having an affair with a player for the Hollyhead Harpies. The lovely, Poppy Abbott. Now it seems Granger is evening the score or perhaps a new romance is in the winds?**

**Malfoy a former Death Eater and Hermione Granger a war hero herself, were seen in a heated embrace in the magical quarter of Paris on New Years Eve. The photo reprinted above is originally from the French paper. The reporter on sight, describes the unlikely lovebirds as friendly and more.**

**Is this Granger’s way of evening the score with her ex-husband? Snogging an exes’ enemy is certainly one way to go about it! Or is it perhaps something more? After all, opposites do attract.**

**Love or revenge? Only time will tell.**

“Rita bloody Skeeter,” Hermione hissed between clenched teeth. “How does that shrew still have a job?”

“People love to read trash,” Andrew said with a good-natured smile. “Are you involved with Malfoy?”

“No, we didn’t go on some romantic trip. We ran into each other, we talked and at midnight we kissed because it was midnight. It was nothing.”

Hermione wondered if her cheeks were as pink as she thought they were. She hated lying, especially to Andrew, but she had vowed to herself never to tell anyone what had transpired between her and Malfoy. Especially, when she was not certain of it herself. Not that she had changed her mind. She still didn’t want to know, a first for her.

“How boring,” Andrew sighed and looked fondly at the picture. “You make an attractive couple.”

Hermione shot him a disbelieving look. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“No,” he flashed another smile. “What a pity. Have you heard anything about the appeal on the act?”

“Not yet. I’m waiting on word from the legislative department. However, I had an idea over New Years Eve.”

“Do tell.”

Andrew sipped at his tea and looked the picture of politely expectant.

“We aren’t making any headway because the house elves do not want to be liberated. If we can get them to join our cause,” she said thoughtfully having a drink of the tea. Chamomile, it was delicious and soothing, which was precisely what she needed at the moment. “And I think I have an idea of how we can get them to do that.”

“If anyone can make this happen, it’s you.”

“Thanks,” Hermione felt herself blush.

XXX

Ron was having tea in the Burrow kitchen. It might have been peaceful except his mum was livid. Molly had not taken the news of his divorce well, when she learned the cause she took it even less well. Molly had grown fond of her daughter-in-law and had yelled at him non-stop when he turned up at her doorstep two weeks prior.

After everyone in the house grew sick of the shouting, Molly was keeping a lid on the worst of her anger. Still, Molly had her ways of showing Ron she was not over it. Such as now when all she did was slam pots and pans, making a racket that nearly rattled his teeth. She slammed every door on the cupboards and anything she was magicking such as the cooking made more noise than necessary.

Finally, Ron had enough. “Mum, how long is going to last?”

“You’re asking me? You’re the bloody fool that bungled his entire bloody marriage and family? And for what? Some slag?”

“Mum!” Ron said aware his ears were probably turning pink with anger. “Poppy is Ginny’s mate. And she’s not some slag.”

“She’s not your wife,” Molly turned to stare at him. Her hands on her hips and her face every bit as red as her hair, she was a dreadfully frightening vision. “Hermione is a lovely girl, smart, pretty, funny and well-mannered. You decide to throw it all away! Honestly, Ronald Bilius Weasley, to think I raised a boy, who would do something so cruel!”

“I’m sorry, mum. I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“Oh, I told you this Quidditch nonsense would be bad unless you went home more often!” she threw a dishrag at his head. “Now, look what’s come of it. DIVORCED!”

“Mum, it’s really not so bad. Hermione and I were growing apart anyway.”

 “YES, YOU BIG SUPER STAR! ALL OVER THE PAPERS! SKEETER WRITING HORRIBLE – YOUR FATHER AND I HAVE NEVER – SO ASHAMED – HOW COULD YOU?”

“Mum!” Ron ducked when several more dishrags all aimed for his head. One landed in his tea.

“Mark my words, your father and I are very disappointed. The only reason you are allowed in this house is because you are still family.”

“Mum, please,” Ron groaned.

Just then George sauntered into the room along with his dad. Arthur looked uncomfortable whereas George looked as cheery as he could be. He was grinning broadly from one ear to another and in his hand was a copy of the Daily Prophet.

“I’ve news for you,” George said in a sing-song voice. “You know how you told me the other night that bookish Hermione Granger isn’t going to meet anyone any time soon?”

Ron reddened further. He’d had a bit too much Firewhisky and tried to explain to George that’s the only reason she was taking it so hard. If not, she would have been jumping for joy. Ron felt certain of it. In the past couple of years, they had drifted apart. More and more ever since he began his Quidditch career. He truly believed if she was the sort of girl that went out and met men easily, she would be fine with the divorce. But Hermione wasn’t the same girl she was back at Hogwarts. She no longer socialized with those outside of her immediate circle. She had withdrawn after the war, her popularity as a war hero, seeming to make her want to turn invisible.

“Well yes, but I didn’t mean it how it sounds.”

“RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF!” Molly hollered and he cringed. “THIS IS NOT HOW I RAISED YOU – HOW COULD YOU – AN AFFAIR – TERRIBLE, DISGUSTING, VILE BEHAVIOR!”

“Ron, really?” Arthur shook his head. “Who is going to help me with my work at the department now? Hermione’s insights were invaluable.”

Ron groaned, he really didn’t need the constant reminders that his family considered Hermione their family and no one else would ever measure up in their eyes. Poppy was doomed to fail before she had ever met any of them. Even Ginny, her friend had taken to shunning both her and Ron.

“And the poor dear lost her parents during the war,” Molly chimed in with a distraught look on her face. “We were her family.”

Ron sighed and tugged at his own hair. His mum really was brilliant when she decided to guilt trip.

“Have look here, that’ll cheer your spirits.”

George tossed the newspaper at him. Ron caught it in mid-air and when his eyes landed on the front page he paled. There on the cover was Hermione snogging Malfoy. That bloody git, Malfoy. The absolute worst part was how bloody passionate the kiss was. He couldn’t even read the article, he tossed it aside.

Molly and Arthur picked it up. With steady expressions they read the article. Arthur blushed at the sight of Hermione snogging Malfoy. Molly on the other hand, raised her head steadily to look at Ron.

“Can’t find someone else? It seems she has moved on just fine too me.”

Ron muttered something inaudible under his breath. Why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t she have owled Krum and rebounded with an ex like a normal girl? No, his ex-wife had to go snog his worst enemy. Harry’s too. That thought cheered him a little, with any luck this might make Harry to talk to him again. Ginny wasn’t likely to talk to him for months, he reckoned. She might come by The Burrow just to hex him. The thought made him a little queasy.

“I’d prefer it wasn’t a Malfoy,” Arthur mumbled.

“Well certainly,” Molly agreed. “But he did come ‘round during the war. Was a real polite house guest too.”

The mention of what Malfoy had done during the war turned his stomach. So bloody what if he had saved Hermione at the last minute? He had done loads of evil things before that. The worst of his crimes in Ron’s opinion was snogging his wife and the second was going into hiding with the Weasley’s during the remainder of the war.

Ron in a foul mood left.

XXX

Hermione returned home from work completely exhausted. She didn’t have the energy to cook, so she ordered takeout from a Muggle restaurant. Chinese food.

She nearly fell asleep on the sofa while waiting for it. She might have fallen asleep entirely if she hadn’t been woken by a tapping sound on the window. Sleepily, she clambered toward the window. It was a snowy white owl, she recognized from the Ministry of Magic.

 

_Dear, Ms. Hermione Granger_

_We must meet and discuss how I can help in your efforts to liberate the house elves._

_I have a keen interest in this matter as someone that was raised in a house with house elves. I would like to offer my support and perhaps schedule a few press announcements?_

_Sincerely,_

_Blaise Zabini._

_Ministry of Magic Department of Legislative Law_

Hermione was pleased to see the Ministry had registered her under her maiden name again. What she couldn’t’ process was the idea that Zabini of all people wanted to help her. He hadn’t participated in the war on either side, so she didn’t think he was a lout. The way she used to look at Malfoy and still viewed a good deal of her old school mates from Slytherin house. However, she had never before considered the possibility that he might care about magical creatures. He had certainly never shown an interest during Care of Magical Creatures.

She leaned toward refusing him. Still, she found she could not quite shake the possibility of allying with him. After their time at Hogwarts, he had become quite a skilled diplomat. He frequently appeared in papers around the world and had only recently returned to England. He must have moved to another department entirely.

XXX

Draco was not thrilled to be invited to dinner with his parents that evening. They had called him back from Paris for a bloody family dinner. He would have refused, but he knew they would only Apparate to Paris and force whatever discussion they wanted to have with him there.

Now, Malfoy sat at the dinner table with his parents. His father sat at the head on one end, his mother on the other. As always, Narcissa Malfoy looked calm and perfectly elegant. His father on the other hand, was seething with barely restrained anger. His father’s disapproval didn’t fill him with the same dread it used to when he was a boy. If he’d had the courage to face him then, the way he did now, perhaps he might have made better choices from the beginning.

“What’s this about?” Draco asked as he cut into the steak.

He posed the question even though he already had some notion.

“Have you seen the Daily Prophet?”

So like his father to answer a question with a question. Although, Draco supposed it was better than being dismissed outright, though not by much.

“Yes, I have actually. There’s a lovely photo of me and Ms Granger.”

“Don’t joke, Draco,” Narcissa said calmly. “Are the two of you involved?”

“No, it was just a friendly New Year’s Eve kiss between old school mates.”

“And do not lie,” his father cut in. his voice was as hard as ice. “I will not tolerate your dalliance with this Mudblood.”

“Oh, you won’t?”

“No, I won’t. you can still be disinherited.”

“Go on then, I’ve enough of my own funds from Quidditch,” Draco drawled. “That’s a threat that doesn’t scare me.”

“I know you are quitting after the season and have already started a job at the Ministry.”

“I’ve been cautious with my funds, you can keep your Galleons for all I care.”

He put his cutlery down and faced off with his father, who by all means should be in Azkaban. How he had managed to evade sentencing yet again was beyond Draco, but he supposed a last-minute shift in allegiance coupled with Ministry connections could secure such things.

“Enough of this foolishness,” Narcissa said with a wave of her hand. “I think it’s lovely.”

“You would,” Lucius sneered.

After the war, his parent’s relationship had shrivelled up and died. After all this time, they only remained together for appearance’s sake.

“A relationship such as this could help restore the Malfoy name to its former glory. We have never recovered our status after the second war and Ms Granger is a bright young woman with an excellent track record. Her Muggleborn breeding,” Muggleborn was said with a warning glance as Lucius to defy her. “Well that’s only a benefit. Combine that with your Quidditch career and your new foray into the Ministry and the two of you may well become a power couple.”

Draco sighed. “I’m not seeing her. It was a coincidence we were even at the same place.”

“Perhaps you should invite her to dinner?” Narcissa continued. “Her particular bloodline may make the public view us more favourably once again. Bloodlines do not count for much anymore.”

“Mother, I am not about to invite her to dinner because she is Muggleborn. I don’t choose my girlfriends based on their family pedigree,” Draco drawled feeling himself growing irritated with his mother as well.

Her particular brand of meddling might be more well-meaning than his father’s, but it was no less tiresome. However, it was hard to argue with her logic. Narcissa had always been more cunning than Lucius by far. Not that his father ever gave her credit for it.

“What a pity, I’ve heard rumors about a new law coming in from the Ministry.”

That peaked Draco’s interest. “What sort of law?”

“An absurd one,” Lucius said in an icy voice.

“It’s practical,” Narcissa said with another coldly furious look at his father.

Yes, his father was not the man he had once been. Draco saw it as an upside as he now enjoyed a better relationship to his mother without his father’s interference and constant schemes.

XXX

Over the next couple of weeks, Hermione’s life slipped back into its normal routine. It happened so suddenly, she hardly noticed. She went to work, spent her days after work reading for pleasure and working on the Legislation to free the house elves.

One day at lunch, she prepared herself for her meeting with Zabini. Andrew had helped her choose this outfit. She would have asked Ginny, but after her divorce from Ron, she needed a little time away from the Weasley’s. Seeing Ginny was a painful reminder.

The robes she wore were a bright white. They were a long slim-fitting dress that accentuated her figure. The collar was high around her neck and more dramatic than she would have ordinarily dressed for the office. However, with her hair in a sleek French twist and the flowing billowy robe over her shoulders and its gold cuffs at the neck, the effect was stunning. She touched her hair, missing the curls. She decided for the office party she was going to wear it in curls. It just felt better that way and she loved how the ringlets framed her face when she fixed it with magic.

“Oh, yes that will certainly make an impression,” Andrew said beaming with approval. “You look exactly the sort of witch an international diplomat would take seriously.”

“I’m not certain the clothes matter so much. Zabini no doubt remembers me as a know-it-all from Hogwarts.”

Andrew laughed. He had been in his second or third year when she returned for her eight year. She could never recall.

“I remember you too and trust me, I haven’t thought of you as a bushy-haired know-it-all in years,” he told her with a good-natured laugh.

“That’s something, I suppose.”

Hermione glowered at him. He didn’t need to throw in the remark about her hair, but she supposed it did use to be wilder in her younger days. Before she learned how to style it using magic. Now she wore it in ringlets most days.

“C’mon, ‘Mione. It’s not so bad. I also remembered you as the girl that was always saving the school and the wizarding world.”

That softened her and she blushed a deep shade of scarlet. “It really wasn’t as impressive as it sounds.”

Andrew laughed. “So modest. Now come on, if we don’t get you to that lunch you won’t be able to finish saving the house elves.”

Hermione laughed with him and thanked him for all of his hard work. Then she left for the restaurant in Diagon Alley. It was new and she was surprised to see an Italian restaurant here. Over the years she had noticed the shops in Diagon Alley and the restaurants were all so well established new places rarely opened. This was a pleasant surprise.

The restaurant was bustling. The ambiance was cosy and intimate even at lunch time. The walls were painted a dark green and candles littered the restaurant. It was dimly lit and at every table there were people leaning across tables decked with white table cloths. The food looked and smelled amazing.

A hostess with a bright smile made her way to them. “Hello, do you have a reservation?”

“Yes, it’s under Zabini.”

“Perfect, follow me.”

The young hostess led Hermione to a table at the back. Zabini was already there. He stood and flashed a smile that reminded Hermione he was always handsome. Back at Hogwarts, she used to think of his beauty as cold. Now there was warmth in his eyes that had been missing for all of their time together at school.

“Lovely to see you again,” Zabini said extending a hand.

Hermione shook it. “Likewise, but I confess I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

“I would have been in contact sooner, but I only returned to the country a day or two after your law had been put forth.”  

“You think you have something that might help?” Hermione posed the question as they both perused the menu.

“I do,” Zabini’s eyes danced with excitement. “Did you know that in America, France and most of the Asian countries house elves have or are in the process of being freed?”

“I did,” Hermione replied. She could feel her feathers ruffling. Of course she knew, did he think she wouldn’t know?

Zabini smirked and repressed a chuckled. “Of course, you knew. That’s your problem Granger, you always know everything, but you never learned to sway a crowd.”

Hermione glared at him from over the menu. “And I suppose you do?”

“Not to say your actions are not without persuasion. You lead by example, which I find admirable. However, in this case, it’s difficult as you do not have any house elves in your employ.”

“I live in my parents old Muggle house, what use could I possibly have for house elves?”

“Precisely, most of the wizards and witches you are trying to convince don’t have house elves and those that do are fine with the way things are.”

“As are the house elves themselves,” Hermione admitted in a sigh. He sounded a lot like Malfoy.

“Exactly, so I suggest this time you make your campaign public. You’re a war hero for Merlin’s Beard. Take advantage. Go to the press, show the public how woefully behind the times England is in their treatment of house elves.”

“I don’t really have any contacts with the Daily Prophet.” That was due to her abhorrence of journalists and most of the stories printed in that rag. Most of their reporters were well-aware she did not like to be in the public eye. However, there was one paper that might be inclined to help. “But I think I have one friend that could help.”

“Then arrange an interview. If you’d like, I can help you prepare.”

“Thanks,” Hermione said. “I don’t suppose you could help me with the second part of my strategy? I assume you have house elves?”

Zabini nodded.

Hermione filled him in on Malfoy’s suggestion. After a long pause, he said; “That I can help with. I suppose I can start by giving them a wage or perhaps freeing them,” he paused. “I’m not certain, which they will react worse too.”

Hermione nodded. She remembered how the house elves at Hogwarts had all refused to clean Gryffindor Tower with the exception of Dobby. All because she kept trying to free them by leaving random bits of knitted clothing for them to find hidden underneath other things. In hindsight, this was perhaps not her most thought out plan. It led to a lot of trouble for the other students, but she was no less determined to free them today than she had been then. The only difference was that she wanted to be smarter about it. This time, she was going to achieve results even if she had to hex every single member of the Legislative Department to get it done.

XXX

It was later that day and Hermione had actually forgotten about her giant mistake on New Years Eve when she was abruptly reminded of it. She didn’t quite know what it was, perhaps it was the taste of champagne or maybe it was the way Andrew moved his head earlier when they had drinks after work. But a piece of her night with Malfoy came back to her in vivid detail.

_He groaned and pulled her closer. His lips touched hers in a soft, gentle kiss that left her breathless. She hadn’t known Malfoy could be gentle and it made her giggle. He laughed too and kissed her nose. He brushed her curly hair from her face and his fingers lingered along her cheeks. Then he pulled her into his arms more firmly. Hermione settled her head into the crook of his neck. His other hand played along her thigh in a way that stirred passion inside of her._

Bloody hell, she had nearly forgotten she had been drunk and foolish enough to sleep with Malfoy. Now as she attempted to remove her makeup in the bathroom she was assaulted by this unwelcome reminder.

How in the bloody hell was she supposed to carry on with her life when she kept remembering at the oddest times?

Before she could work herself up into a proper frenzy, there was a sharp rap on the bathroom window. Expecting an owl from her own department, she opened the window. It was a large barn owl that she had not seen before. Intrigued, she took the letter and opened it.

 

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_We are aware of your recently divorced status. Therefore, we are writing to inform you and every other unwed witch or warlock between the ages of twenty-three and fourty of the enactment of an ancient law._

_As we are certain you are aware, there has been a dangerous decline in the wizarding population of Britain after the war. It was something we were expecting to rectify itself when the youth of that era aged and wed. However, this has not solved the population problem we are facing. As we predict extinction of British Wizarding population in less than three generations, we have enacted a law that has been used in such times before. Please see the Wizarding Marriage Laws of Convention of 1644 and 1235._

_We have yet to face a threat of such magnitude. Based on this, it is required that all unwed witches and wizards wed by the end of the new year. We understand that this is asking a lot of our people and will therefore provide monetary incentives. Furthermore, it is required that the union results in a minimum of two children within in the four years. We are prepared to offer additional child support for those in low-income families._

_It should be noted, failing to comply with these new laws will result in time in Azkaban. Should you have difficulty finding a match, please contact our newest department, the Department of Magical Matchmaking._

_Kind regards,_

_Minerva Hobbletops._

Hermione stared at the letter. She was newly divorced and since she wasn’t the one having the affair. So who was she supposed to marry?

 

**Thanks for the kudos and comments on the last chapter! Chapter 3 will be up sometime tomorrow.**

**I know this was a little bit of a filler chapter, but some things had to be set up and I promise things will start to happen in the next chapter. What do we think of the Daily Prophet article and ofc the new law? I want to hear all your thoughts. I’m fireismyelement97 on tumblr.**

  * **Izzy**




	3. Chapter 3

Draco was not exactly thrilled about the new law. However, unlike the rest of his unwed co-workers thanks to his mother he had some warning. That made his first morning at the Ministry more manageable. With the added stress of the new law, he might be able to handle all of the stares he had received. Some were friendly no doubt a result of his Quidditch career and others were openly hostile. Draco had been expecting as much.

What he had not been expecting was how strong his desire to be left alone was. After years, in the public the need had intensified to the point of becoming painful. A need that had only been intensified after all of the letters he received this weekend. Most warned him to stay away from Granger, thinking her too good for him. The minority were supportive, saying they were pleased he really had changed. After reading one that threatened to poison him, he had chucked them all out.

Zabini burst into his office in a furious state.

“Have you seen this?” Zabini threw the letter down on his desk.

“Yes, I received one myself last night,” Draco drawled. The letter Zabini was holding was one of the few he had actually read. “I don’t suppose there is something you can do?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me? Apparently, the whole bloody department was working on this while I was a diplomat in Italy and nobody could be bloody bothered to tell me!”

“You don’t sound too popular, mate.”

“You’re one to talk, how many awkward apologies have you made this year?”

“Two. Though I daresay the public one I made as well as the countless private ones right after the war were plenty,” Draco replied calmly. He had worked hard to overcome the shame of who he once was. Along with working hard to become someone different. Not that it had done much to sway public opinion of him or his family. “You’re in the Legislative Department, there must be a way to overturn this absurd new law?”

Zabini laughed. “Oh, Draco. You have no idea do you, mate?”

“What?”

“This has happened before and believe me, I was up all night going over every law book I could find. There is precedent and no argument to invalidate it. I even reached out to my foreign contacts. It isn’t just in Great Britain this has been done, but almost every country at some point.”

Draco’s curiosity was admittedly peaked. “How often have we come close to dying off before?”

“Let’s see, there was the Goblin Uprising in North America that nearly killed half the population. Then there was the Black Plague in all of Europe. A couple of close calls in Northern Africa and South America. The list goes on. People tend to forget this law was enacted towards the end of the 1400’s as well as the 1600’s.”

“There’s nothing we can do then I take it?”

“None,” Zabini agreed. “Fortunately, I am engaged to a lovely Italian witch though she was not about happy about the rushing the date.

“Oh?”

“She chucked a shoe at me and then tried to hex me. As if this was my fault.”

Draco laughed. “I suppose I’ll see what she’s like for myself on the weekend.”

“Oh, yes, the formal dinner with the Ministry,” Blaise said with a thoughtful expression. “Do you suppose they set it up to help the single employees meet someone?”

“It’s likely. It’s not as dinners are a regular affair at the Ministry and now we are supposed to attend them once a month?”  

“And who are you going to marry?”

“No idea,” Draco lied.

He didn’t agree with his mother’s political scheming one bit. However, he did like the idea that he propose to Granger. Back at Hogwarts half his teasing and cruelty aimed at her had been an attempt to rid himself of his crush. How else was he supposed to cope with it? It’s not as if he could have asked her out. His father would have cast the cruciatus curse on him until he came to his senses or perhaps used the imperius curse to keep him away from the Muggleborn.

Approaching Granger would be easier if he could remember exactly what transpired between them in Paris. He had a vague notion of snogging her, but that was it. He supposed he could brew a Remembrance Draft for himself however, if he learned they slept together, he couldn’t very well tell Granger. She was liable to hex him for any mere mention of the night. On the other hand, if he could tell her nothing had happened with certainty, she might soften towards him.

Suddenly, he recalled the moment in eight year that had begun their tentative friendship during school.  

 

_Predictably he had run into Granger in the library. There was a corner that was fairly hidden that he preferred. There was a sofa and chairs that were beaten and worn, but surprisingly comfortable. He liked to study there ever since he found it in the place in third year. Until now, he had never seen anyone else there._

_“That’s my spot, Granger,” he drawled._

_She looked up at him, her face red with anger immediately. He realized his mistake then._

_She took her hand wand out and pointed it at him. “Try me, Malfoy.”_

_His hand twitched to get his own wand out, but it didn’t seem like such a bright idea. After all, he was the school pariah. The only other students that would speak to him were former Death Eaters. Even the teachers had grown colder toward him. The only reason he was here was because Potter helped him in court. Getting into a duel with Granger would likely only add to his unpopularity._

_“Sorry, I’ve just never seen anyone else back here before.”_

_Granger looked at him levelly. “You have a lot more than that to apologize for if you ask me,” she said bossily._

_“I suppose you’re right,” he looked away. “Not sure where to start exactly. I’m sorry I was mean to you and I’m sorry I joined the Death Eaters.”_

_“That’s it? That’s your entire apology? It’s terrible.”_

_“I reckon it was.”_

_Granger was no dummy and as much as it pained him to admit it, she was alright for a Mudblood know-it-all. His apology wasn’t much mainly because other than join Voldemort he wasn’t certain exactly what he should be sorry for. He knew he could be a little mean to Granger here and there, he hated her with a fiery passion, but what did she expect? She irritated half the school. Always with her book in a nose and or her hand in the air, ready to answer a question no matter how difficult._

_The worst the she had done was make him fancy her. It was almost unforgiveable. A Malfoy, who fancied a Mudblood? He had betrayed his family during the war because in the midst of all the cruelty and horror, the one thing he couldn’t stand was to see her suffer._

_Yet he was the one that supposed to apologize? After she cast the bloody spell that made him think of her in a way that was entirely too obsessive._

_“So?” she stared at him. “What are you waiting for? Apologize properly or leave!” she huffed when he didn’t reply._

_“I am very sorry, I saved your life.”_

_“You know Bellatrix was your aunt. Your whole rotten family were Voldermort’s supporters and you can’t even muster a genuine apology? Pathetic.”_

_“Fine,” he grit his teeth. “I’m sorry, my family is full of wankers and I’m sorry I sided with the dark lord.”_

_“And how about, I’m sorry I bullied you and your friends all throughout school? I’m sorry I called you a Mudblood? Because I have now come to my senses and realize Muggleborn or Pureblood, blood status doesn’t matter?”_

_He saw a flash of something in her eyes. He could have sworn she was enjoying this. Then he looked at Granger again and he realized, she was. The bloody little know-it-all was enjoying watching him squirm. This was her blasted idea of fun!_

_“Yes, that too. I’m very sorry. Contrite even. Now can I have my spot?”_

_“No.”  
“No?” _

_“No,” she confirmed._

_Granger went back to scribbling notes in her small, neat handwriting._

_A wicked idea crossed Draco’s mind. She might want him to leave, but she couldn’t force him. So he sat down across from her and got his books out. He pretended not to notice Granger’s disbelieving stare. Her mouth had dropped open._

_“What are you doing?” she demanded. her voice was shrill and when he glanced up, she wore an expression that was remarkably similar to Professor McGonagall’s most disapproving stare._

_“I’m studying. What are you doing?”_

_She let out a small, frustrated shriek. “You are absolutely infuriating.”_

_“I might say the same thing about you.”_

_Granger went back to studying while calling him every foul name she could think of under her breath. This actually amused him._

_He was driving her mad was he? Well good. He felt a bit mad himself. Had around her for years, she might as well join him._

After that, Draco remembered they had both studied there almost every day. Eventually, after a couple of weeks they had started to talk. It was mostly about lessons, but some of the tension eased from them as they got more comfortable together. Soon, they were swapping tips and helping each other out, they had become tentative study buddies. It wasn’t long before they made plans to meet there and work together on assignments.

After graduation however, it was as if nothing had ever happened. Granger had run off to hang out with her best friends Potter and Weasley. He hadn’t seen her since. Then of course came the disheartening news she was engaged to the Weasel. It wasn’t long after that he gave in to his parents demands to marry a Greengrass.

Blaise waved a hand in front of his face and Draco realized he had been lost in thought.

“What did you say?”  

“I asked if you wanted me to introduce you to some of the eligible witches I know? Unless you and Granger are a couple?”

“We are not and I need to think about it. I just got divorced, mate.”

XXX

Hermione would have been looking more forward to the Ministry dinner if Malfoy wasn’t going. She was having drinks with Ginny while they both got dressed. Harry was out in the dining room, doing whatever men did when they waited for women to get dressed.

The rumors at the office were that Malfoy had taken a job at the Ministry. She would have thought them gossip as she had not caught as much of a glimpse at him. However, the writings of the Daily Prophet confirmed this. All week Rita Skeeter had been writing articles about Malfoy’s new position at the Ministry. She had tried to snag an interview, but he had walked straight into the building without acknowledging her. None of these articles had made it to the front page luckily. As Hermione’s coming and goings had been heavily documented as well.

Hermione had tossed the Daily Prophet on her bed. It lay open on the latest Skeeter article. One that made Hermione’s blood boil with fury although Ginny seemed to think it rather amusing. The redhead flopped down on the bed and went to read the article aloud for the third time since her arrival.

Hermione had given up on trying to dissuade her. Short of hexing her friend there wasn’t much she could do.

“Listen to this,” Ginny said clearing her throat. “Now that Malfoy and Granger are both working at the Ministry, they seem to be keeping their love affair secret. All week since Malfoy’s arrival the two have arrived and left separately. So far, they have not even been spotted having tea or going to lunch.”

“Ginny, do shut up,” Hermione grumbled.

“Oh, but this is the best part!” Ginny said through fits of laughter. “Perhaps there is trouble in paradise? Or is it as sources close to Ms Granger say and they are keeping their love affair secret to protect their professional reputations? This anonymous source also states that Ms Granger has confirmed Mr Malfoy took the position at the Ministry simply to be closer to his girlfriend.”

“Merlin!” Hermione exclaimed. “A source close to me? I’ve never said anything of the sort!”

“I know. Pure fiction,” Ginny said happily still giggling. “Oooh here’s another juicy detail. I’ve asked Mr Malfoy for commentary on the rumors that he and Granger might make things more official now that the new Marriage Law has taken effect? He declined to comment in a rather rude manner however, this reporter is waiting to judge him. If he is indeed dating a Muggleborn, he has turned over a new leaf since the war. And after all, isn’t personal growth to be applauded? Ms Granger certainly agreed on New Years Eve.”

“Merlin, is that the end of it?” Hermione hid her face in her hands.

“I love this. You know it’s driving Ron mental? It’s wonderful.”

And judging by the expression on Ginny’s face, she did indeed think it was wonderful.  

“Ginny, he’s your brother.”

“Yes, who cheated on my best friend with another friend of mine. As far as I’m concerned they’re both dead to me. I am team ‘Mione one-hundred percent.”

Tears pooled in her eyes and she blinked them away. “Thank you.”

“So Harry’s and mum and dad. The whole family is hopping mad at him. Except maybe George. He’s enjoying this Malfoy scandal almost as much as I am.”

“Merlin,” Hermione sighed.

A few hours later, Hermione, Ginny and Harry Apparated to the venue the Ministry was holding the dinner at. It was an ancient hotel in the North of Ireland. It once was a castle and now it was a bustling hub of wizarding tourism.

The castle was lit with torches leading up to the entrance way. Harry walked with Ginny and Hermione, one on each arm to steady them in their heels.

Harry was looking very dashing in a white and black wizarding robes. Ginny wore navy blue robe that plunged low at the neckline. It clung to every curve and was positively scandalous. Her hands were covered by white gloves and her bright red hair was up in a bun tidy enough to pass for a ballerina’s hairdo. Around her neck hung a long diamond necklace that hung between her cleavage. Hermione wore a soft pink dress that flared out at the waist. The back of her dress was open and her hair hung freely down it in long brown curls. She wore diamond earrings and a bracelet that shone in the torchlight.

A reporter stood by the entrance along with a photographer. As they approached, Hermione saw it was Rita Skeeter and bit back a groan. Ginny flashed a self-confident smile and fluttered her fingers in a teasing wave as their picture was taken.

Harry like Hermione hated reporters, Skeeter in particular. He turned his head to the side and exchanged a look with Hermione.

“Hasn’t that woman been sacked yet?” he mumbled in her ear low enough only she would hear.

Hermione repressed a giggle. “Unfortunately not.”

Once they were safely inside, Ginny beamed. “Well that ought to give them something else to write about for a while. I can see the headlines now.”

Hermione removed her arm from the crook of Harry’s. Now that they were inside on stone floor, her heels posed no problem.

“Unfortunately so can I,” Hermione told her in waspish tones.

“The last thing I want is rumors flying about the three of us, I’ve been enjoying a nice quiet spell out of the limelight, Gin.”

“Come off it, Harry,” Ginny waved his concern aside. “You’ll be back in the spotlight when we announce the pregnancy.”

“You’re pregnant?” Hermione exclaimed.

“Yes,” Harry said beaming with pride.

“Congratulations! Oh, that’s wonderful news!”

Hermione wasted no time in giving them both hugs.

“Little Sirius must be so excited he’s going to be an uncle oh and Teddy too!”

“We haven’t told them yet,” Ginny explained. “We want to wait until I’m further along.”

They broke apart from their group hug laughing. Rita Skeeter came up behind them. Her green writing quill was posed above a notebook that hovered next to them. She peered curiously at them over the top of her glasses.

“Did someone say pregnant?” she asked drawing the word pregnant out until it was absurd. “Ginny Potter pregnant? Oh my, bliss on the home field, but havoc on the Quidditch pitch. You’ve only just gone back to work after the first one. Dear me, this is juicy. Tell me, darling how do you feel?”

The quill pointed at Ginny as if it had posted the question. Ginny turned to look at her, laughed and walked away. Hermione stifled another laugh and walked away with Harry.

“Ms Granger where is Mr Malfoy this evening?”

Harry jerked his head back at her and rolled his eyes. Hermine rolled her eyes too and laughed. They had learned a long time ago even the most innocent of remarks could be abused in the hands of nosy old Rita Skeeter. The best thing they could do was remain silent.

“Are you really going out with him? Because I can’t picture it. You hated him even more than I did.”

“Oh, blimey Harry not you too.”

“I’m only teasing,” Harry winked at her. “I know you aren’t dating anyone. Although I figure with this new Marriage Law that’s likely to change.”

“Honestly? I haven’t given it much thought. I just got divorce. I can’t even picture myself going on a coffee date let alone marriage.”

Harry nodded. “I still can’t believe he’d have an affair. On the bright side, anyone is an improvement, I suppose?”

“Except for Malfoy.”                                                                                

“Well Merlin, Hermione, that goes without saying.”

Hermione laughed and turned a furious shade of scarlet. If only he knew what she might have done. They caught up to Ginny, who was waiting at the entrance to the dining hall. She caught the last snippets of their conversation.

“You’re only twenty-three,” Ginny said surveying her. “You ought to be out playing the field before you settle down. At least for a month or two.”

“Say the word and I’ll set you up with anyone you like. I’ve had blokes from the Auror’s office asking me to introduce them to the beautiful and brilliant Hermione Granger ever since news of the law broke.”

Hermione hadn’t thought it possible, but she turned an even deeper shade of red.

The three entered the banquet hall together. It was large and reminded Hermione a little of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Candles floated in the air all around the room, creating a dim glow. There were several smaller tables that were wonderfully decorated with shining silverware and flower arrangements. She could see little name cards and music was playing in the background. A space had even been cleared for dancing. Trays laden with drinks floated around the hall, offering the drinks up the guests.

“What is going on?” Ginny asked as she surveyed the hall. “This is even nicer than the Yule dinner last year.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Hermione replied. Two sets of eyes turned to look at her so apparently it wasn’t. She sighed impatiently. “The Ministry set all of this up on account of the Marriage Law.”

“But why would they do that?”

Hermione shot an exasperated look at him, which was softened by the sight of his untidy hair. She couldn’t help it, it was exactly how he had looked when she first met him.

“To help their employees mingle. They enacted the law and now they must do what they can to make certain its successful. Otherwise, why would they have a dinner for all of the Ministry in January when we just had the Yule dinner a month ago?”

“It’s true, Harry,” Ginny said. “You never have any other events with the whole Ministry present. Your department can barely be bothered to socialize for crying out loud.”

“You know Aurors, unbearably paranoid. It’s really quite boring actually.”

Hermione looked at him more closely. Maybe his job wasn’t all he had dreamed it would be after all? Hers certainly wasn’t.

A tray floated their way and they each accepted a magic cocktail. Hermione’s was a cherry liquor that had red flames on top. The flames were perfectly safe to be consumed, only tickling a little each time she had a sip.

They circled the room and it wasn’t long before people started to take their places at their tables. Hermione found hers near the dance floor. Harry and Ginny were sadly seated at a round table on the other end of the room. She didn’t recognize anyone at her table, there was one empty seat. She sat with a plump little witch named Mathilda Harrison, a fit younger warlock, who introduced himself as Tom Welsh, he was an Auror. The fourth man was an older warlock, who seemed to be dozing off in his seat.

“You’re Harry’s friend?” Tom prodded.

Hermione nodded. Was this one of the warlocks that had asked for an introduction? Tom’s eyes were a warm shade of brown and his smile was kind, but she did not feel like meeting anyone tonight. Her divorce had been finalized just over two weeks ago. Then there was the Malfoy incident, which was still fresh on her mind.

“Lovely to meet you. I work with Harry as an Auror. He’s a great bloke.”

“Yeah, he’s the best,” Hermione agreed. She had a sip of her cherry liqueur and turned to face the witch. “What department do you work for?”

“Well,” Mathilda looked extremely pleased to be asked. “I work for the Department of Magical Wages and Distributions, dear. I work closely with Gringotts.”

“Oh, how lovely.”

“Yes, people always assume it’s dull work wages and whatnot. But I say it’s the most fascinating thing there is. I spend my days checking numbers and ensuring that everyone gets the correct amount. I’m also responsible for setting the wages whenever we hire a new employee. Fortunately, that’s all fairly standardized, can you imagine the chaos otherwise?”

“Oh, no that would be dreadful,” Hermione murmured, regretting her decision.

“Quite right you are my dear, let me tell you we had quite a lot of problems with the…”

And so on it went. Mathilda was quite happy to tell them every detail of how wages functioned within the Ministry. Neither Hermione nor Tom had to do much more than nod at the appropriate intervals. Occasionally, the old wizard would snore loudly.

“And that’s why we now go through Gringotts,” Mathilda finished with a pleasant smile.

The wizard at their table jerked awake. He coughed and eyed Mathilda suspiciously.

“Dear, are you boring these two youngsters with wage talk?” he said with a twinkly-eyed look.

“Oh, don’t be an old grump,” Mathilda waved her hand at him. “Don’t mind my husband, Perry. If he isn’t complaining, he’s asleep.”

“Me?” Perry pointed to himself turning quite red. “I love you dearly, but there isn’t anything more boring in this world than counting coins. Before I retired I was Head of the Department for Dangerous and Deadly Creatures.”

Hermione felt a surge of great dislike for this man. His former department was always trying to put down some poor creature or another like Buckbeak. Hermione dealt with them on a regular basis and she had found they had little knowledge or compassion. They rarely understood that most often those creatures only attacked if they felt threatened. Nine times out of ten they would decide to execute.

Hermione glanced at Tom and saw he was as uncomfortable listening to the couple squabbling as she was. That decided it, then she would make small talk with him.

“How long have you worked as an Auror?”

“Your job is a crock,” Mathilda shot.

“Yours is a crock. Goblins can do what you do and they do it better!”

“I’ve been an Auror for roughly a decade now,” Tom said working extremely hard to tune out the argument.

“Fascinating, I spend most of my days behind a desk, but Harry makes it sound like an adventure.”

“Are you comparing me to a Goblin?”

“If the shoe fits!”

“Yes, well it is some days,” Tom said clearing his throat awkwardly. “Like just last week I tracked down a thief. He had been breaking into wizarding homes, stealing anything of value and hexing the homeowners to turn on each other.”

“Turn on each other how?”

“Well at least I’m not some old Manticore!” Mathilda huffed.

“They killed each other, quite grizzly. I confess, it was one of the harder cases.”

“I can imagine,” Hermione replied thinking of the horrors she had seen in the war.

“I found him and it took half the department to take him in. He’s awaiting sentencing at the moment.”   
“Dreadful.”

“Harry tells me you are working on liberating house elves.”

So he was one of the wizards that had asked about her. Now she was stuck at a table with him. How terribly awkward.

XXX

Draco saw Granger the moment she entered the banquet hall. She looked absolutely stunning. His eyes lingered on her and she was completely oblivious to his presence. He watched her as she chatted happily with her friends and then when she sat down at the table.

Blaise laughed and nudged him. “You fancy her.”

Startled, Draco looked at his friend. “What are you on about?”

“Your very obvious crush on Granger,” he chuckled. “You’ve been staring at her for the past ten minutes. I’ve been talking and you haven’t heard a word, have you?”

Draco closed his eyes and tried to think. “You’re a fool.”

“No, I’m not.”

He made an effort to turn back to Blaise and focus on their conversation. It was difficult especially when he noticed that Granger had taken a seat at his table. There was another man there one that wasted no time in introducing himself and then talk her ear off.

Draco was just trying to decide whether or not he should take his seat before they got too chummy when Blaise made the decision for him.

“Let’s take our seats. I think dinner is about to be served.”

Draco nodded in agreement. On his way over on the way to the table, he had to fight not to look too excited. This was perfect. Then his attention was drawn toward Rita Skeeter, who entered the hall with a photographer in tow.

Bloody hell. Granger wasn’t likely to talk to him when there was a reporter buzzing around. After all, she was likely even less thrilled with Skeeter’s constant articles about them than he was. He and Granger had taken the place of both the Weasel’s affair and Draco’s ex-wife’s. probably as they were both famous. Not to mention Weasel and his girlfriend had not been seen together anywhere since New Year’s Eve. Draco wondered if that romance hadn’t fizzled out.

When he sat down, he saw the expression of horror and embarrassment that crossed Granger’s face. Her eyes were huge and her pale cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson. Malfoy donned a mask of pleasant indifference.

“Good evening, Granger.”

“Malfoy,” her voice was furious.

That made a smirk play on his lips.

“Oh, you are together,” an older witch at their table exclaimed. “You know I wasn’t certain, but there was that picture. On the other hand, Skeeter isn’t’ exactly the most reliable source is she?”

Draco waited patiently for her to stop talking whereas Granger looked liable to explode at any minute.

“We are not a couple,” Granger said in a tone of voice that just barely passed for civil.

“No, it was just a little New Year’s Eve spirit,” Malfoy agreed and shot an insinuating glance at Granger that only seemed to infuriate her more.

Something hard hit his shin and he glanced down. He just caught sight of Granger’s crystal shoe disappearing. Had she kicked him?

“It was nothing,” Granger agreed before she turned back to Tom with a pleasant smile. “I believe you were telling me about your latest case?”

Tom grinned and carried on the conversation they had been having before he joined them.

Draco sat there pretending like it did not bother him.

XXX

Hermione felt Malfoy’s gaze on her all throughout the meal. Her mood had not been helped by the photographer that swooped in to take pictures, including her initial conversation with Malfoy. It had also been the only one, but it was definitely enough for the photographer to get what he needed. There was no doubt in her mind that tomorrow they would no doubt be featured in the Daily Prophet.

When dinner finally broke up and people began to mingle more freely, she rose to find Harry and Ginny. The last thing she needed was Malfoy following her, but unfortunately that was exactly what happened. Malfoy caught up to her when she was barely a few feet from their table.

“Granger about Paris.”

“We don’t need to discuss it not now or ever.”

“I don’t know what happened or didn’t for that matter,” he said keeping his voice low, which was the only reason Hermione had not hexed him. Even if her hand twitched to reach for the wand in her purse and do just that. “However, with all this attention on us, I wanted to apologize for my part in dragging you back into the limelight. I know how you detest it.”

“Thank you,” she said startled.

During the war, she had suspected Malfoy was more than met the eye. But this was – well it was more than she would have expected from anyone, least of all him.

“I would still like to be friends.”

The photographer snapped a photo of them from across the room. He had the zoom lens out and Hermione knew they were his subjects. So she schooled her expression into something carefully neutral. Following her eyes Malfoy did the same. His expression was a mask of cold blankness that she recognized from Hogwarts. It was a cold mask he had perfected during the course of the war.

“Friends?” she repeated back to him unable to quite believe what she had just heard. “I know we were friendly on New Year’s, perhaps I even agreed to it however, I would like to remind you I was black out drunk.”

“I recall.”

“And I know we were study buddies of a sort in our last year and maybe you saved us at the end of the war, but – but there is a lot of history here that I’m not sure I can sweep under the rug after New Year’s.”

“You know,” he quirked a brow at her. “Attempting to become your friend isn’t exactly easy for me either.”

“No, I suppose not. Does your father know we are – uhm –” even she felt how she blushed. “Friendly,” she said finally settling on the correct word.

“Yes, and he is less than thrilled,” Malfoy looked away uncomfortable.

“I imagine he was quite enraged. I think I would have liked to see his face when he saw the Daily Prophet.”

Malfoy laughed. It wasn’t the cold sneering one she had heard so often at Hogwarts. It was open and warm. There was something inviting about it that made her lean in closer.

“If I had known, I would have taken a photo for you.”

Now Hermione was laughing as well. “Pity you didn’t.”

“Of course, I would have liked to have seen Weasley’s face,” Malfoy said in confiding tones that did not hide his amusement in the slightest.

“To be perfectly honest, so would I,” Hermione replied in a quiet giggle. “But honestly, Malfoy I would have thought the two of you had buried the hatchet years ago.”

“Well we did in a manner of speaking, but being on different Quidditch teams sort of worsened that problem."

“I suppose we can attempt a friendship,” Hermione said begrudgingly. “But on one condition, no talk of Paris.”

“It’s forgotten,” Malfoy agreed. “Quite literally as I can only remember a few short snippets.”

“What snippets? Because I remember we snogged…” she trailed off embarrassed.

“I remember that as well,” Malfoy replied entirely too collected for her liking. She wished he would look at least a little abashed, but then again it was Malfoy. “But the rest of the night is a blank.”

“It’s the same for me.”

“However, it does appear like we -uhm,” Malfoy cleared his throat and glanced around to make certain no one was listening.

Hermione fiddled with her clutch and suddenly felt very interested in her shoes. “Yes, I suppose it does. Which is why we aren’t to discuss it.”

Malfoy startled at her sharp tone. “Easy, Granger. Friends, remember?”

“Sorry, I’m a bit testy.”

“Right that new law,” Malfoy nodded. “It seems to have everyone in a mood.”

“You seem oddly unaffected by it.”

He shrugged. “If I survived the war and my divorce, I imagine this will work itself out as well.”

Hermione smiled. “That was oddly reassuring.”

“Care to dance?”

Hermione was about to decline and say she really should find Harry and Ginny when they appeared at her sides along with Andrew.

“There you are ‘Mione!” Harry exclaimed. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he spotted Malfoy and stared in surprise. “Oh, hullo Malfoy.”

The others greeted awkwardly and Malfoy shook hands with Andrew.

“How do you know Hermione?” Malfoy inquired.

Hermione was surprised by his politeness. Courtesy wasn’t something she had seen much of at Hogwarts. The closest he ever came at school was when he was sucking up to a teacher, most often Snape.

“I’m her assistant.”

“Saw your last match,” Harry said scratching the back of his head. “That was some pretty good flying.”

“Yeah, not bad at all,” Ginny agreed looking as if it was painful to compliment Malfoy.

“I don’t follow Quidditch,” Hermione said when he glanced at her and looked as if he was expecting a compliment from her as well. He would be waiting a very long time if that were the case. “What are you even doing here come to think of it?”

“Wow, Granger that was surprisingly slow,” Malfoy said his lips twisted into a teasing smile.

“Well I’m very well not going to take Skeeter’s word for it, now am I?” Hermione said. “Especially, not as I expect she will be announcing our engagement any minute now and we both know what a croc that is!”

“Yes, Skeeter does have a knack for causing scandal. But to answer your question, I am taking up a position at the Ministry. after this season I’m retiring from Quidditch.”

Hermione choked on the drink she was drinking. “Oh, that’s…wonderful new,” she choked out at last.  

Bloody hell, up until this moment Hermione had been holding out hope Malfoy was simply at the Ministry frequently to visit Zabini. She might have agreed to be friends, but she didn’t intend for it to be a close friendship. Perhaps she would see him once or twice a year like she did with Parvati and Padma Patil from Hogwarts.

“It would seem for once Skeeter is accurate,” Harry said patting Malfoy on the back in a brotherly gesture. “Welcome to the Ministry.”

“I heard my name,” Skeeter popped up in the middle of the group. The photographer was hot on her heels. “All good things I hope.”

“Yeah, we were talking about the trash you write,” Harry said.

“And what a disgrace you are to reporters at large,” Hermione added with a smile.

The group laughed. Harry caught her eye winked mischievously.                                                                                                                      

“Now, now,” Skeeter said with an acidic smile. “I need a photo. Huddle up, group photo.”

“Not likely,” Ginny muttered.

The rest of the group stayed where they were. Skeeter’s smile turned if possible even more acidic.

“Very well then, Terrence get the photo as is since they are highly uncooperative.”

Skeeter took a step back. Her quill was posed over the notebook.

“We won’t be conducting any interviews,” Malfoy said. “So you might as well take that dreadful quill of yours somewhere else.”

Skeeter’s lips tightened into a thin line. The photographer took several photos. Hermione contemplated hexing them before deciding it wasn’t worth it. In all likelihood, Skeeter would simply print that up in the morning edition. The rumors about her relationship with Malfoy were bad enough, she didn’t want to add that she was a mental loon, who hexed reporters to the story.  

“How terribly unflattering and after all the wonderful press I’ve been giving you, Mr Malfoy,” Skeeter tut-tutted. “I had thought you had turned over a new leaf after your days as a Death Eater.”

Malfoy paled and Hermione noticed his hand twitched.

“Bloody hell, Skeeter. What do you want?” Harry said running a hand through his already messy hair.

After he did, Ginny attempted and failed to tidy it. In the end, she settled for ruffling it affectionately.

“Interviews with you, your lovely wife, the rude Ms. Granger and the equally rude Mr Malfoy.”

“No,” Hermione said flatly.

“Absolutely not,” Malfoy said.

“Ooh, the lovebirds are in agreement,” Skeeter crooned. “So tell me, as a new couple what do you think about the new Marriage Law?”

Hermione groaned. Not this question again. “No comment.”

“No comment,” Malfoy agreed.

The group shuffled off to avoid Skeeter. She frowned at them, but soon located the newly appointed Minister of Magic.

“Finally, I can breathe,” Hermione exclaimed in relief.

“I’ll drink to that,” Harry agreed. He raised his glass to hers. Hermione touched her cocktail to his. “Cheers, ‘Mione.”

 “Tell me about your strategy to liberate the house elves, I feel as if you must have something brilliant up your sleeve for your appeal,” Tom said.

Without Hermione’s noticing, he had sidled up alongside her. She blushed and smiled at his description. It did not escape her notice that Malfoy appraised Tom coolly.

“Oh, well, I had some excellent help,” she said before beginning to explain.

XXX

An hour later and Hermione was dancing with Tom. He was an excellent partner. He led her smoothly around the dancefloor and he was making her laugh with his jokes. He was handsome too and she was just starting to feel a certain spark when Harry interrupted.

“May I cut in?” he asked his green eyes dancing with amusement and flashing a bright smile.

“As long as it’s alright with Hermione.”

“Of course,” Hermione agreed cheerily.

Harry twirled her around on the dancefloor with a lot less expertise than Tom. He stomped on her foot several times, she winced and glowered at Harry in response.

“Sorry, my dancing hasn’t improved much since fourth year I’m afraid,” he said with an apologetic grimace that made her laugh.

“You’re still a better dancer than Ron.”

“How are you holding up after the divorce?”

“I’m equal parts confused and miffed. I still can’t believe he would do that to me. We’ve been friends for years and I agree our marriage wasn’t in the best place, but to cheat?” Hermione said feeling herself getting distraught. “I still can’t believe it.”

“If I hadn’t seen the photos for myself, I wouldn’t have believed it either.”

“We were talking about starting a family when the headlines broke two weeks later.”

“Bloody hell,” Harry groaned. “I’m sorry I’m gone so much with work and all.”

“It’s alright and I miss Ginny too, but she looks so much like Ron. It’s kind of painful.”  

“Gin understands and if it’s any consolation, Ron’s hiding from her. She wants to hex him with her bat bogey hex.”

Hermione broke into a broad smile and laughed happily. “Brilliant.”  

“And George did hex him and is rubbing in each and every article about you and Malfoy.”

Hermione grimaced now. “I am so tired of those articles.”

“I know,” Harry’s smile was mischievous as he twirled her around and pulled him back to her. “All of the Weasley’s are letting him believe the rumors are true. It’s brilliant if I do say so myself.”

Hermione couldn’t help herself, she giggled. “If you see George before I do, will you thank him for me?”

“Actually, that’s all Mrs Weasley’s doing, she apparently gave him an earful about how of course you would meet someone soon. Before anyone could even think to tell him it was just gossip. George has been encouraging everyone to mention how much they like Malfoy.”

“What? Mrs Weasley did that for me? She’s – oh Harry that’s just wonderful!”

“Truly inspired if you ask me. Mr Weasley thinks it’s hilarious.”

Harry spun her back off the dance floor. They went to get something to drink and surprisingly enough found Ginny with Malfoy and Zabini. The redhead was in the midst of uproarious laughter as she told Zabini about the time she had hexed Malfoy during Umbridge’s reign. Zabini was laughing as hard as she was, only Malfoy seemed less amused, but even his lips twitched a little upward.

“Oh, Zabini you should have seen his face, it was priceless!” Ginny exclaimed as she did an excellent imitation of Malfoy’s face.

“Have you ever been on the receiving end of your hexes?” Malfoy said between laughter.

Harry and Hermione broke down into laughter as well when Ginny turned that imitation toward them.

“It’s actually one of my fondest Hogwarts memories,” Hermione said with a teasing smile at Malfoy when she came to stand beside them.

She was still hesitant about this friendship thing between them, but she was willing to give it a go.

“Really?” Malfoy drawled. He fixed her with an appraising stare of his silver eyes. “Not when you hit me during third year or graduating top of our year every bloody summer?”

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head at him. “Careful, Malfoy you sound jealous of my grades.”

Malfoy snorted.

“Of course he is. Cried about it at the end of every year,” Harry said hitting him on the shoulder the way men do.  

Ginny looked between Hermione and Malfoy. Her lips curled into a knowing smile that made Hermione blush. Ginny had a sip of her Gillyweed water and wrinkled her nose. That made Hermione smile even broader, her best friend was pregnant. It was touching to think that Harry, who had spent most of his life without any real family ties would have a second child soon or third because Ginny and Harry had raised Teddy too after the war.  

“We should get going,” Ginny said checking the time. “I have an early practice in the morning.”

“’Mione should we take you home when we go?”

Hermione nodded and was about to agree when Malfoy interjected. “If Granger wants to stay longer I’m happy to see her home.”

Hermione stared at him. “What?”

“Yeah, what?” Ginny and Harry said at the same time.

Zabini coughed and his eyes danced. There was something about his cough that sounded suspiciously like laughter to Hermione’s ears. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she studied Malfoy.   
“Friends, remember?”

Her lips pursed into a thin line as she tried to decide. On the one hand, she would like to stay longer, on the other hand, if she let Malfoy take her home, it would only add fuel to the already outrageous rumors.

“Thank you for your generous offer, Malfoy, but I should be on my way. I have reports to fill out tomorrow. I’m sure you’re starting to get acquainted enough with Ministry life to know how it is.”

“On a Sunday?” Zabini exclaimed.

“It’s Hermione,” Harry said as if that explained everything.

And it must have too because no one else said a word about it.

Malfoy flashed aa smile. “See you around then, Granger. Goodnight, Potter and Potter.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I kept my maiden my name.”

“Really? What for?” Zabini gaped. “It sounds a lot like Weasel, yeah?”

“It does,” Malfoy agreed, but he spoke without malice.

“Good night, boys.”

Hermione led the other two away before Ginny could hex either of them.

XXX

Later that evening Hermione was surprised to see there was a snowy white owl at her window. She had just finished feeding Crookshanks when it rapped on the window. Thinking it was Hedwig, she opened it. The owl wasn’t Hedwig. Intrigued she opened the envelope.

 

_Granger,_

_Since we seem to be the talk of the town anyhow, want to join me for lunch on Monday?_

_Your friend,_

_Malfoy_

Hermione rolled her eyes and began to scribble a reply. She sent it back with the owl without a second thought.

A second owl arrived and she cursed. Why on earth was she so popular tonight? She had hardly spoken to anyone outside of her inner circle and those in her department since she graduated Hogwarts. Why had everyone decided that now was the time for her to spread her social wings?

This time, the letter was from Tom. He asked her to drinks next week. Seeing no reason to decline, Hermione replied that she would love to go to drinks after work. Ginny would be thrilled to see her enjoying some time in the company of other men.

Men, who were not Draco Malfoy or her ex-husband, Hermione added to herself.

Then there was the added bonus, if Skeeter believed she was done with Malfoy, she might stop writing about her love life. With a feeling of relief that she might soon be out of the spotlight again, she went to bed feeling considerably more cheerful than she had felt in weeks.

XXX

Draco hadn’t expected his owl, Artemis to return as fast as she did. However, she was back within the hour. He gave her a treat and read the letter. Granger’s handwriting was neat and tidy even as she gave him a scathing telling off.

 

_Malfoy,_

_That sounds like a lovely first attempt at friendship. However, I am eager to be off the pages of the Daily Prophet and back to anonymity as soon as possible therefore I am certain you can understand why I must decline._

_It was lovely to see you this evening._

_All the best,_

_Hermione Granger_

Feeling depressed even if he understood, Draco poured himself another glass of Ogden’s Old Firewhisky. There must be something he could do to convince Granger to spend time with him? Bloody hell, he only had a year to convince her to marry him and that was not enough time with all of their history.

Inspiration struck and he smiled. He had just the thing he realized.

 

**Thank you to everyone that read, commented and gave kudos to this fic!**

**\- Izzy**


	4. Chapter 4

Ron met Harry for breakfast at the Leaky Cauldron. He had a flat in Diagon Alley and it was an easy trip. Harry Apparated in from his place with Ginny near the Burrow. Ron’s head was pounding and he picked at his breakfast. Harry on the other hand, seemed to be in high spirits.  
His mood was worsened by the litany of articles about Hermione and that git Malfoy. His exploits with various models and Quidditch players were not affecting her in the slightest, which was unfortunate. Especially, as things ended with Poppy the instant the new law passed. Her parents had a match in mind for her. She was Pureblood and like most Purebloods her parents had arranged a marriage for her, one she had scorned until now. She didn’t want to marry Ron, not so soon after his divorce and as she figured if he could cheat on Hermione Granger of all people, he could cheat on her too.   
So now Ron had to find someone else to marry. It shouldn’t be hard. With his fame and money, he had plenty of eligible witches to choose from. The new law had even increased his popularity in the past week. But none of them compared to Poppy or even Hermione for that matter. He was starting to think, he might have made a mistake.   
So the second Harry was in his spot, he blurted out the question he had been desperate to ask. “Is Hermione really dating Malfoy?”  
“That’s her business, you don’t seem to lack for dates yourself, mate.”   
Ron scowled at him. “You’re joking? She is! I can’t believe she is dating that, git!”   
“Calm down, mate,” Harry said unsympathetically. “You cheated on her, remember?”   
“I remember, but that’s not the point! It’s Malfoy!”   
“Shouldn’t you be more concerned about the new Marriage Law?” Harry asked as he stabbed his eggs.   
“Dunno what I’m going to do about that. Suppose I’ll meet someone. Poppy dumped me.”  
“Oh,” Harry’s expression registered sympathy. “What a shame, mate.”   
Ron ate his breakfast, feeling worse than he had when he first came in. it was true then. It wasn’t just George pulling his leg. Hermione was dating Malfoy.   
Well, not if he could help it. If Hermione knew he was willing to try again, she would probably dump Malfoy. He felt sure she was only seeing Malfoy to make him jealous. In fact, she wanted Ron back. After all, he had been the one to end things right before the scandal broke. She would take him back.   
Yes, he was going to make things right.   
XXX  
Hermione was sitting at Ginny and Harry’s kitchen table. It was early afternoon and they were all having a cup of tea. Ginny had brought back a rare raspberry, black currant, cinnamon and apples blend from Ireland. She had picked it up on her last trip there when the Hollyhead Harpies had their final match last season. It was delicious, sweet and spicy it hit the spot on such a cold winter day.  
Little Sirius James came running through the kitchen. He was screaming and howling at the top of his lungs. Hermione smiled fondly at his dark hair. Minutes later, his older brother Teddy came chasing after him. Teddy looked so much like Lupin for a second, Hermione believed they were back in their third year at Hogwarts.   
“Can you imagine adding another one to that lot?” Ginny said jerking her head toward the kids with an affectionate smile.   
“Can you believe this new law?” Harry said as he read Hermione’s letter for probably the fifth time.   
They had invited her over to talk about what Ginny had called a ‘dreadful’ situation the night before.   
“It’s absurd,” Ginny sniffed. “Hermione is recently divorced, surely that should allow her more time?”   
“I already inquired with Zabini last night,” Hermione said. “Apparently, he spent half the night answering questions about that and the answer is no. There are no special circumstances unless you can medically prove you are unable to have children.”   
“Wow, rough gig,” Harry said staring into his cup of tea. “Still this is bonkers.”   
“Hear hear!” Ginny said having a sip of tea. Her expression was thoughtful before she lit up into a mischievous smile. “You have a few months left, I think you should spend them playing the field before settling down again.”   
“I’m sorry, but this is wrong!” Harry exclaimed suddenly. “You just got out of one unhappy marriage you shouldn’t have to jump into the next one right away!”   
“Harry, it’s alright. I hadn’t planned to have children anytime soon or even remarry, but we have survived worse. And no matter how it goes, it can’t possibly be worse than what I went through with Ron, now can it?”   
“I wish I could help, ‘Mione.”   
“We can and we are going to,” Ginny said in calculating tones. It reminded her of how Ginny used to look at school when she was thinking of a way to get away with something. “Or perhaps you can simply find someone, who wants the same thing out of this arrangement as you do and then carry on your separate ways afterwards?”  
Hermione shook her had. “I can’t do that. Not after Ron, especially not if there will be children in the mix.”  
“Gin,” Harry shook his head. “Hermione deserves more than that. What did you think of Tom?”  
Hermione flushed. “He was nice, but I’m not sure I’m ready to get back out there.”   
“I know he owled you,” Harry said with a twinkle in his eyes.   
“He owled you?” Ginny exploded. She hit Harry’s arm. “How could you not tell me?”  
“He invited me out for drinks and I accepted.”  
“What?”  
“Brilliant!”   
“I like him well enough and I think it’s only fair I give him a chance. Besides, perhaps it will get Skeeter to stop writing about myself and Malfoy if nothing else.”  
“Oh Hermione! That’s so bloody boring!” Ginny exclaimed.   
“Brilliant! Or you could just threaten to reveal she is an unregistered Animagus again?”   
“No, I don’t have the evidence and it was ten years ago, I would just be asked why I didn’t bring this to the Ministry immediately.”   
“There’s that,” Harry agreed with a grimace. “The only bright side that I can see is how mental this is driving Ron.”   
“Serves him right,” Ginny sniffed. “Anyhow, have you seen his mentions in the Prophet? It’s always him and some new girl out for drinks. Honestly, I’m ashamed to call him my brother.”   
“We grew apart when he was always on the go,” Hermione said in off-hand way. She didn’t want to discuss Ron.   
“That’s a fine excuse,” Ginny huffed. “I’m always travelling and so is Harry, and we are fine. He’s a bloody fool is what he is.”   
“A right proper fool,” Harry agreed. “Honestly, I saw him for breakfast this morning, ‘Mione. And he looked rough.”   
“Good.”   
“He was hungover and in a foul mood,” Harry shook his head clearly disgusted with his friend.  
Hermione felt oddly cheered about that and tried not to show it.   
XXX  
The next day at lunchtime Hermione ate in her office along with Andrew. Andrew had wanted to go out, but when Hermione showed him the latest article in the Daily Prophet and he agreed to stay in with her. Andrew loved to be told the latest gossip and Hermione’s non-existent love life was some of the better gossip.   
“Ooh, I love this part here,” Andrew said and then cleared his voice, preparing himself to read in a dramatic fashion. “Ms Granger was spotted dancing quite intimately with a mysterious man at the Ministry dinner on Saturday evening. Mr Malfoy stood on the sidelines, visibly pouting,” Andrew threw his head back and laughed. “Visibly pouting,” he repeated laughing as he shook his head.   
Irritated, Hermione snatched the paper back. A photo of her in the arms of Tom showed her smiling as he swung her around on the dancefloor. There was another photo of Malfoy having a drink with Zabini and Ginny. He looked as if he was listening intently to whatever Ginny was saying even the picture version of her was talking, but he wasn’t pouting.   
The last lines of the article seemed to taunt Hermione. 

Is there trouble in paradise for these two star-crossed lovers? Has Ms Granger already jilted Mr Malfoy for another, more promising man? Inquiring minds want to know! Though how she could hope do better than one of the richest bachelors in England is a mystery that might just be solved when his identity is revealed. 

Hermione tossed the paper aside.   
There was a knock on the door. “Come in.”   
Ernie the postman entered. He was grinning from ear to ear as he carried in a large bouquet of red roses.   
“Tell me those are for me!” Andrew exclaimed. “My dearest Holten, the love of my life…”   
“They’re for Ms Granger,” Ernie said in a gruff voice.   
“Thank you.”  
Ernie put them on the desk and left. Hermione sat staring at the card, completely flabbergasted. Who would be sending her a bouquet of red roses? With tentative hands, she opened the attached card. 

Dear Hermione,   
I hope you can forgive me.   
I would love to try again. I would love to have dinner this week. Owl me your response.   
Love,   
Ron

Hermione cursed. Without hesitation, she threw the whole bouquet including the lovely white vase in the trash. Then she crumpled up the card and threw that out too.   
“Who were they from?” Andrew asked peering at the discarded flowers.   
She grimaced. “Ron.”   
“Gross,” Andrew put his head on his hand, his expression was sulky. “I wish Holten would send me flowers.”  
“You could have them. Pity I threw them out.”  
“That’s sweet, but no thank you.”   
“You deserve flowers.”  
“So do you. From anyone someone better than your scum of an ex-husband.”   
Hermione nodded in agreement. She scrawled a hasty note and used the Ministry’s channel to send it to him. It contained one word ‘no’.   
Two hours later and Hermione was back to work. She was working on a press release she was going to take to Zabini. He was gathering information about house elf rights in other countries. Both he and Malfoy were going to open their houses to the press and discuss how much happier the elves in their employee were now. Malfoy was preparing one of his house elves to talk to the press as well, assuming any of them wanted to.   
It was times like now Hermione missed Dobby. He would have been perfect for this and he would have loved to help. His passion was what had inspired her in the first place. Thinking of Dobby was depressing. He had helped rescue her from Malfoy Manor with Malfoy. Without him, she wouldn’t be here now and Voldemort would be in power.   
She looked up in surprise when the door to the office burst open violently. A furious Ron, who was almost as red as her hair came bursting in. A flustered Andrew came running in behind him.   
“Mr Weasley, I must insist you leave! Hermione is very busy –”  
“SHE’S MY WIFE AND IF WANT TO –”  
“Andrew, I will handle this. Thank you,” Hermione said fighting for calm. When he closed the door behind him, she turned to face Ron. “Explain yourself.”   
“Me? You can explain yourself! YOU’RE THE ONE THAT’S BEEN RUNNING AROUND WITH MALFOY! I INVITED YOU TO DINNER.”   
“And we are divorced. I declined on account of your affair.”  
Ron blanched. “EXCUSE ME?”  
“Stop shouting, I am at work.”   
“YOU COULD AT LEAST HAVE THE DECENCY TO EXPLAIN WHY YOU DON’T WANT TO TRY AGAIN! I LOVE YOU!”   
That was too much for Hermione. “YOU CHEATED ON ME! I DON’T OWE YOU AN EXPLANATION AND WHO I DATE IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!”  
“BLOODY HELL! I CAN UNDERSTAND WANTING TO PUNISH ME! BUT YOU’VE MADE YOUR POINT! NOW WOULD YOU COME BACK TO YOUR SENSES AND REMARRY ME!”  
“HAVE YOU GONE COMPLETELY MENTAL?” Hermione was aware she shouldn’t be in a shouting match at work, but this was ridiculous.   
XXX  
Draco was on his way to Hermione’s office to ask if she would like to have tea tomorrow before work when he heard the shouting. He paused by her assistant’s desk. Andrew was blushing.   
“Is she in a meeting?” Draco drawled with a raised eyebrow.   
“Does that sound like a meeting? It’s Weasley.”  
“Her ex-husband?”   
“The same,” Andrew replied off-hand. “He has two minutes before I call the Aurors to escort him out.”  
“Or perhaps I could break up this unhappy reunion,” Draco said trying to decide if Granger would appreciate such an accident.   
“YOU ARE ACTING PATHETIC HERMIONE! ONE LITTLE AFFAIR AND –”  
“DON’T YOU CALL ME PATHETIC, RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!”  
That was it for him. With an encouraging nod from Andrew, Draco calmly entered the office.   
“You alright, Granger?” he asked her.   
Hermione, who had been standing with her mouth open, snapped it shut. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked mortified. Finally, she nodded.   
“GET OUT!” Weasley roared at him.   
“I work here, Weasel. Leave before security tosses you out in the gutter. Where you belong.”   
“He’s right. You should go,” Hermione said. She looked as if she was struggling to regain her composure. She pushed a lock of her curly hair behind her ear. “Now, Ron.”   
“This conversation isn’t finished.”   
“Yes, it is. We are divorced and there is nothing more to discuss.”   
“You heard her, now get out,” Draco helpfully held the door open.   
Throwing one last furious look at them, Ron stomped out.   
Hermione exhaled visibly in relief. She sank into her office chair. Her elbows landed on the desk and she put her face in her hands, apparently she didn’t care if he saw her fall to piece or perhaps, and Draco thought this more likely, she had forgotten he was present.   
After a long while she looked up. Her brown eyes were both confused and anxious. “What are doing you here?”  
Draco resisted the urge to snap back an equally rude comment. Bickering as if they were still at Hogwarts would not help his goal to be her friend. “I came to see if you wanted to have lunch tomorrow,” causally he checked the watch on his wrist. “I’m done for the day.”  
Hermione’s answering expression was so flabbergasted he chuckled.   
“Now? But it’s not even two in the afternoon!”   
“I’m working half-days until my retirement from Quidditch.”   
“Yes, of course. Bagman is a good guy. He would be more than open to such an arrangement.”   
Draco was surprised she had thought otherwise for even a second. The head of the Magical Games and Sports Department, Ludo Bagman was a former beater himself, for Draco’s current team no less. Naturally, he would be willing to help out a team mate. Draco had grown tired of Quidditch, there was no privacy and people were constantly torn between condemning him as a Death Eater and a redeemed hero, who had helped save the Golden Trio. To be honest, he couldn’t decide, which opinion was more irksome.   
So he had decided to make the move into the Ministry hoping for more privacy. Unfortunately the Wimbourne Wasps wouldn’t let him out of his contract for another season, which meant he had another eight months left before he could take up a full-time position at the Ministry. Bagman had graciously allowed him to start early and allow him to get some training in before Quidditch training started this season. The Ministry was rife with rumors that he had used dark magic to land this favor, but it would seem no one had told Granger any of this. Or perhaps, she dismissed it as idle gossip. After all, she had been the subject of gossip so much herself that she placed little stock in it.   
XXX  
Hermione was surprised that Malfoy didn’t leave. Now that she knew why he was in her office, she went back to lying with her head on the desk. Why wasn’t he leaving?   
“I was hoping, perhaps you would like to join me for tea tomorrow before work?”  
Hermione looked up, sputtered for a few moments unable to formulate a reply, she went back to lying with her head on the desk. What the bloody hell had Ron been thinking? This was exactly the last thing she needed, she was still raw from the divorce. Her house was too quiet and now he wanted her back just as she was getting used to the silence?   
“Sorry, bad timing. Are you alright?”  
“Do I look alright?” Hermione grumbled, her face still firmly planted on the desk.   
Malfoy laughed, but it was without malice. Which was lucky for him or she would have hexed him regardless that they were at work.   
“Sorry, but you should see yourself. It’s a little comical.”   
Hermione gave a half-hearted chuckle. “I suppose I do.”   
There was a tentative knock on the door. She looked up to see her Head of Department Mr Diggory hovering. After the death of his son, he had thrown himself head first into work and fighting Voldemort. With the dark lord defeated almost six years ago, he had even more time to dedicate to work and now ran the Department.   
“I’m sorry Mr Diggory I should be working,” she said immediately straightening up.   
“No need to apologize, Granger. I heard what happened, I daresay the whole office heard. Terrible business with your divorce and the new law, why don’t you take the afternoon off to collect yourself?”   
“No, I can’t do that. I have loads of work and I’m really making headway on the house elf legislation –”  
“I know you are,” Mr Diggory said with a paternal twinkle in his eye when he looked at her. “You’re heaps ahead of the rest of the Department on their cases. I think you can afford one afternoon to yourself. Perhaps even treat yourself to the spa?”  
Seeing that it was pointless to argue, she smiled. “Thank you, Mr Diggory.”   
Mr Diggory looked at Malfoy as if seeing him there for the first time. He flashed an amused and knowing smile at Hermione that made her want to shout ‘no, it’s not what you think’!   
“Hello Mr Malfoy, what brings you by?”  
“I was just about to invite Granger to tea to set up a press meeting for the house elves right’s campaign. Unfortunately, Weasley was already here.”   
“What a splendid idea! That’s just the thing you need Granger. Out and about with other young people!”  
Hermione stared at him. Mr Diggory didn’t think Malfoy was a Death Eater? How surprising a good portion of the Ministry did, in spite of Harry’s attempts to set the record straight.   
“It’s work related, Mr Diggory,” Hermione said as politely as she could.   
“Still, still it’s something. A young girl like you should get out more often.”  
Why didn’t he just tell Malfoy that she was an antisocial loner with the same two friends she had had since first year? Oh, right. He knew that already.   
Faced with the daunting prospect of fending off both Malfoy and Mr Diggory, Hermione surrendered. Surely tea with Malfoy couldn’t be so bad? He’d been in her office for almost ten minutes and he had actually been helpful.   
“Fine, but we are not going anywhere Skeeter can see us.”  
Fifteen minutes later and a kettle was boiling on the stovetop. She and Malfoy had flooed back to her house. He sat surveying the kitchen with polite curiosity. She supposed she could understand. She hadn’t changed much since her parents moved out, but the shelves were stacked with magical cooking books, magical herbs and a painting she had bought on a trip to Italy last summer. It was of witches in the Renaissance and the female pictures all peered out of curiously at Malfoy. Each time he looked in their direction, they waved at him and giggled.   
“That doesn’t look like a wood oven,” Malfoy remarked as she shuffled through the tea herbs.   
“It runs on electricity,” Hermione explained. “I think I have some biscuits in here,” she rooted through the cupboard.   
She found various sweets in the back from her last trip to Hogsmeade. She laid them out on the table and placed everything needed for tea on the table in front of him. She poured them each a cup of hot water in two large tea mugs. She offered Malfoy the tea selection.   
Hermione opted for the blackberry current and stirred in some honey.   
“You know, I’ve been here before,” Malfoy said with a discomfited expression.   
“I know. I saw the destruction you and your friends left behind.”  
“I asked them to wait outside in case you or parents tried to escape in the Muggle fashion.”   
“Oh?” Hermione looked up from the tea she had been stirring curiously.   
“I was going to warn you to Apparate out. I’d disabled the anti-Apparition spell cast on the house.”  
“I had no idea –” she cleared her throat before steadily meeting his silver gaze over the rim of her cup. “That was – well you know.”  
Malfoy shrugged. “You were a pain in the arse at school, but I didn’t want to see you dead.”   
“Likewise, although I do admit sometimes I still giggle when I think of you as a ferret.”  
“Think of me a lot, do you, Granger?” he said in an insinuating tone of voice that made her choke on her tea.   
“Friends,” she reminded him as sternly as she could.   
Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Come on, Granger at some point we will have to be able to joke about Paris.”  
“Not if I have anything to say about it.”   
“Bloody hell, I’m half-tempted to brew a draft of Remembrance just to put an end to this foolishness.”   
Before Hermione could reply that she actually had everything they needed in the kitchen, her newly built fireplace burst with the green flames of floo powder. Ron’s green head appeared among the flames, making her jump and Malfoy swear.   
“Hermione! Bloody hell why did you block Apparition into the house?”  
“Because I live here alone, Ron! What do you want?”   
“I want to talk to you –”  
“Stalking your ex, Weasley?” Malfoy drawled. “I would say I was disappointed in this newest low of yours, but I can’t say I’m surprised.”  
“Malfoy,” Hermione growled.   
“WHAT IS HE DOING HERE?”   
“That’s honestly none of your business.”  
“Having tea, what does it look like, Weasel?”  
Ron’s face shifted through several expressions before settling on one that was both enraged and constipated. Hermione got to her feet, anticipating trouble. The last month of her marriage to Ron had been a nonstop shouting match. She wasn’t keen on another one.   
“ARE YOU SHAGGING HIM – A DEATH EATER – SLAG!”  
Malfoy rose and held his wand the ready. “Insult her again, Weasel.”  
Hermione rolled her eyes. She grabbed the tea kettle and tossed the water on Ron’s head inn the fireplace. The green flames sputtered and extinguished. Ron disappeared with the flames.   
“Well that was bracing,” Hermione said. With shaky hands, she put the kettle back down on the table.   
“Does that happen often?”  
“Not since the divorce. Ever since I found out about the affair things have been ugly.”   
“I ought to have hexed him for calling you a slag,” Malfoy said still glowering at the fireplace.   
Hermione felt exhausted all over again. She put her head on the desk and covered it with her arms. “Granger?” Malfoy said in a gentle voice. “Has he talked to you like that before?”  
“What do you care?” she mumbled. “It’s no worse than anything you’ve called me at Hogwarts.”  
“Ouch, suppose I deserved that. But I was a stupid kid and he’s your husband.”  
“Really, it doesn’t matter. He’s just trying to even the score.”   
“Over what?”  
That I wasn’t a virgin when we first slept together, but he was, Hermione thought, but didn’t say. That he always felt overshadowed by his brothers and Harry. That he felt he wasn’t good enough for me and now he has something to prove.   
“Just old stuff from when we were younger,” she groaned. “Look, the Ron thing has been exhausting and I don’t want to talk about it.”  
“Suit yourself. Are you planning on coming up for any time soon?”  
Hermione rolled her eyes and sat up. she waved her hands sarcastically. “Better?”   
“Yes, and ignore the Weasel. He never had much in the way of brains.”   
That actually made her laugh. “Thanks. That is so peculiar, I can’t believe I actually feel better after talking to you,” she said watching him suspiciously.  
There was a small, suspicious part of her that was afraid to trust Malfoy. By all appearances, he had turned over a new leaf. Some part of her had known that for years, but another part of her was leery of trusting that instinct. It was the ingrained distrust she had learned during fifth year.   
But then you must trust him, at least a little otherwise he wouldn’t be in your kitchen, a small voice at the back of her mind told her. It sounded a lot like common sense to Hermione. Malfoy had help save her life, from the press’ interest in his life she thought he seemed as if he had worked hard to improve himself.   
“You know, Granger I’m considered quite likeable among my friends.”  
“Who would have guessed?”  
“You think you’re cute, don’t you Granger?” he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.  
“I know I am,” she quipped. “And brilliant.”  
“How could I forget?” he mumbled.   
The subject strayed onto more mundane subjects. It was pleasant and Malfoy asked her several questions about the Muggle objects in the kitchen. He seemed particularly fascinated by the dishwasher. He eyed it and finally got up to open and close it, inspecting it thoroughly.   
“Is it faster or slower than magic?”  
“Slower.”  
“How utterly useless.”   
“Muggles can’t use magic, Malfoy,” Hermione said in completely exasperated tones. “And didn’t you have some work related issues to discuss?”  
He straightened up, his expression confused. She could see it the moment he recalled. “I was thinking perhaps your journalist friend could come to my place on Sunday and interview my staff?”   
“I’ll owl Luna and I’ll let you know as soon as she replies.”   
“Sounds – did you say Luna as in Loony Luna?”   
“Yes, and she prefers Luna,” she said with a glower.   
“Sorry,” he grimaced. “Old habits and all that. But really Granger you think the Quibbler is more reliable than the Daily Prophet? I know they did their part during the war and they’re reputation has gone up however, they do regularly post pieces about Nargles.”  
“Still?” Hermione sighed. “Oh, Luna. Well she is certainly less likely to paint either of us or the cause in a negative light.”  
“That’s something,” Malfoy shrugged. “Fancy a drink on Thursday?”   
“Oh, that would be lovely if only Skeeter weren’t buzzing around like the pesky insect she is.”   
XXX  
Draco smirked when he heard her answer. He had been prepared for this. Skeeter was her favorite excuse to avoid him. If she had agreed to be his friend and still was trying to avoid him, there was only reason. She must feel that spark between them as well. Otherwise, why would she feel the need to avoid him after Paris? After all, if it meant nothing to her, she should be past it by now. Especially, since she seemed comfortable enough with him in her kitchen now. Or perhaps Weasley was so horrible that even a former enemy seemed pleasant by comparison?  
“I was thinking my place. No reporters present, I promise.”   
Hermione blushed. “Actually, that’s not the only reason. I’m having drinks with Tom on Thursday.”  
“Who’s Tom?” he wracked his brain before coming up with an answer. “You mean that Auror at the dinner? The bloke with wonky hair?”  
Hermione gave him a look so reminiscent of Professor McGonagall he was actually intimidated for a moment. “His hair is fine, but yes. It’s a date of sorts.”  
Draco feigned a smile. Inside he was screaming. Granger was unattached for the first time since the war and she was already seeing someone new? Another bloody tosser. As if that prat Weasley wasn’t bad enough, now this?  
“A date? Really?”   
“Yes, really,” she hissed. “What do you care?”   
“I was just surprised because you didn’t seem to like him. It was only one dance.”   
Granger’s brown eyes widened in surprise before her lips twisted into a knowing smile. “Were you keeping track of who I danced with?”  
“No, I happened to notice is all,” he said feigning indifference. They were getting off track, he needed to change the subject. “Have you heard the latest rumors coming out of the Magical Legislative Department?”   
“No, but if the look on your face is any indication, I won’t like them.”   
“Zabini told me in confidence mind you, so don’t go telling all your mates that the Ministry is considering matching up those that can’t find someone magically.”  
“Oh dear,” she paled and looked completely put off for a moment. “That’s one way go ensure that this barbaric law is successful.”   
“Barbaric? Strong wording.”   
“Shut up, ferret.”   
Draco scowled and had a sip of his tea. To this day, he winced whenever someone called him a ferret. Although, he was well aware he deserved it at the time. Attacking Potter when his back was turned? That was low.  
“You know Granger friends generally don’t tell each other to shut up or call each other names.”  
“Come off it, Malfoy,” her lips pursed into a thin line once again today, she reminded Draco of Professor McGonagall. She didn’t say anything more, but she didn’t have to. ‘You’ve said worse to me’, the unspoken words seemed to linger in the air between them. He appreciated that she didn’t say them even if he would have deserved that as well.   
“Fair enough,” he flashed a confident smile. “So what you think you’re going to marry Tom?”  
Granger grimaced and flushed pink. “I highly doubt that, but I have to start dating again at some point and he’s nice.”   
Draco shrugged. “Sounds like a match made in heaven.”  
Granger’s eyes flashed with irritation. “And I’m sure all of the Pureblood dates your mother has been arranging for you have been truly romantic.”   
“I haven’t been attending any dates,” Draco replied having a sip of his tea. “But if I were, I am capable of finding my own dates.”   
“Oh,” she flushed. “A lot of the Purebloods at the Ministry are having their parents set them up.”  
“Yes, they’re accepting the marriages many tried to buck after the war.”   
“And you’re still dodging it?”  
“No, I already married once for that reason.”  
Granger sputtered and choked on her tea. “Your marriage to Astoria was arranged?”  
“Of course it was. It’s an open secret among Purebloods that most of our marriages are arranged.”   
“Oh, I see,” she knit her brows together as she studied him.   
“It wasn’t a forced arrangement,” Draco explained feeling foolish. This too likely seemed ‘barbaric’ Granger. “We were both looking to meet someone and our parents arranged a proper introduction.”  
“That’s more like a matchmaker than what the Ministry is doing. Have you noticed the chaos?”  
“Oh, yes. I passed three different people asking people out just on my way to the office today,” Draco said sardonically. “People are in a panic.”   
“It’s absurd, right?” Granger laughed and it made him laugh too. “I overheard this one couple in the hallway on Friday, they were arguing about whether or not they should get married or just meet someone else. The woman, I think it was Mariann from Games, she said, well I could hardly do worse when her boyfriend proposed.”  
Draco burst out in laughter. “Her boyfriend is Ian Mc –” he hesitated. “Something. He’s a real tosser, been fired from almost every job he’s ever had until they dumped in some assistant job. According to Mariann, he’s good at taking orders and not much else.”   
Granger laughed. “That’s terrible! I think they ought to break up.”   
“Me too, but better be careful, Ian has a proper crush on you Granger according to Mariann.”  
“Me?” she blushed a furious shade of scarlet.  
“Yes, you.”  
XXX  
Hermione got ready for bed feeling a little better after Malfoy’s visit. He could still be a big as prat as he had back at school, but he seemed to like talking to her. Hermione thought about how strange it was that his parents had set him up with his ex-wife. she was also surprised that Malfoy wasn’t out dating everything that moved. As a Quidditch player he had plenty of fans that probably wanted him as a husband.   
Ron certainly hadn’t wasted any time caching in on that fame. He and that teammate of Ginny’s might have broken up, but she hadn’t missed his appearances in the Daily Prophet. He was out almost every night and with a different girl. Skeeter still found the time to write about that even her if favorite topic still remained Hermione and Malfoy, unfortunately.  
Thinking of Ron when she got into bed, Hermione replayed the horrible incident that had happened earlier today. Was Ron cracking?  
Crookshanks hopped onto the bed with her and curled up. She scratched him behind the ears. He purred contently and went to sleep.   
Hermione wished she could fall asleep as easily. She tossed and turned for hours before she finally fell into a fitful sleep. 

Hermione was back in the Malfoy dungeons. Bellatrix’s leering face loomed over hers. The stone cut into her back and she focused her eyes on the ceiling. Bellatrix laughed and cast the cruciato curse. Pain like she had never felt before in her entire body wracked through her body. She bit down on her bottom lip until she tasted blood, she wasn’t going to give Bellatrix the satisfaction of hearing her scream.   
Time blurred together. She started to scream, the pain had broken her. Bellatrix was taunting her, but the only word that registered was ‘Mudblood’. Hermione looked over and for the first time, she saw that Malfoy was there. His expression was paler than usual and she might be hallucinating from the pain, but he looked as if he was about to cry.   
Still, he didn’t break eye contact with her. It felt as if he was trying to keep her grounded as pain coursed through every inch of her. She couldn’t turn her attention away from him even when Lucius Malfoy saw they were staring at each other and sneered something to his son. The young boy, shook his head and kept right on staring at Hermione.   
Bellatrix wasn’t even torturing her for information. There was no way to stop this, but it wouldn’t have mattered, Hermione wouldn’t have talked anyhow.   
“NOW!” Malfoy cried.   
Dobby cracked into the room.   
Just as Hermione was about to be freed the scenery changed. She now sitting in the cell in the Malfoy dungeon except the only other prisoner there was Ron. He was shouting at her.   
“YOU SLEPT WITH THE DEATH EATER? TRAITOR SLAG!” 

Hermione woke with a scream. Crookshanks hopped onto her chest, waking her by sinking his claws into her shoulder. Hermione cried out and Crookshanks settled back down next to her.   
“Thanks,” she said scratching him behind the ears until he purred in content.   
Hermione wiped the tears away from her cheeks. She must have been having more of those horrible nightmares she’d had after the war. According to the psychologist she had seen at the time they were a common side effect and had told her she had some PTSD, which was normal. So Hermione had done everything she could to get herself back on the right track and eventually the nightmares had stopped. She hadn’t had one in over three years.   
What could possibly have happened to trigger them again now?   
XXX  
By the time Thursday night arrived, Hermione had rarely felt worse. Her nightmares had continued all week and Hermione was too stubborn to take a Sleeping Draught. Besides, those had never worked in the past. Only time had done that. Ron used to wake her when her screams woke him and being in his arms until morning helped too. But Ron was a cheating prick and she had to fight this out on her own.   
Hermione arrived at the Leaky Cauldron feeling bleary-eyed and a little disoriented. Hermione slipped her hand into her robe and had a sip of the Pick-Me-Up Potion. The effect was instantaneous she felt awake and alert once more.   
She wore a long light blue robe that hugged her figure. Ginny had talked her into buying it right before Christmas. Her long curls hung down her back and her makeup was discrete. For an exhausted woman, she looked wonderful.   
When she entered the Leaky Cauldron, she saw Tom was already there. He was seated at a table near the back. He smiled and waved when he saw her. Hermione smiled and realized for the first time that he was quite handsome. He had dark wavy hair, bright blue eyes and a grin that made her heart skip a beat. He was dressed in impeccable black wizarding robes.  
Hermione joined him. He passed her a glass of Ogden’s Old Firewhisky.   
“I already ordered, hope that’s alright,” he said with a sheepish expression.   
“Perfect, thank you,” Hermione said. “How have you been?”  
“Busy, you wouldn’t believe the number of arguments we’ve had to break up.”   
“Oh?”  
“Tensions are running a little high. We’ve been called onto the scene of four dates gone wrong.”  
“Really?”  
“Really,” Tom confirmed seriously.  
Hermione felt a little awkward because she knew they were nearing the topic of the new Marriage Law and she didn’t want to discuss it on a first date. In fact, she didn’t want to talk about it at all. It felt like everywhere she went it was all anyone wanted to discuss.   
“Fascinating. What Hogwarts house were you in?”  
“Ravenclaw,” he said smiling brightly. “I was quite the bookworm when I was a child.”  
“Me too. I recently read –”  
“Yes, but I remember you from Gryffindor. I never got the chance to ask you about the riddle you solved in first year.”  
“Riddle?” Hermione asked.   
What riddle?   
“To save the Philosopher’s Stone. How did you go about solving it? Using logic to help stop You-Know-Who? Absolutely, brilliant! Bloody brilliant!”   
Oh, so that’s what he wanted to talk about. Hermione felt herself sink. Unlike Ron and Harry she had never enjoyed basking in the glory and rehashing the details of every adventure. Most times, she was just happy they were all safe and they had stopped Lord Voldemort.   
But Tom seemed so eager she couldn’t bring herself to refuse him. Reluctantly, she explained the riddle to him. He then immediately started explaining how he would have gone about solving it. It was precisely the method Hermione had used and she found herself warming to the topic.   
Until Tom started to ask her about how she worked out there was a Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. Blast him, all he wanted to do was recount her adventures. She should have known as an Auror he would have a taste for adventure. That was the opposite of what she was looking for. She was tired of adventure. All she wanted was equality in the wizarding world.   
Bloody hell, after she had explained all about Sirius and Peter Pettigrew, she was forced to admit this was the worst date of her life. She even tried to get him onto the subject of werewolf rights, he had zero interest in the subject. Stating in no uncertain terms that werewolves were not fit to live in ordinary wizarding society.  
Yes, the bloody worst date she had ever had, Hermione decided.   
“I need another drink,” Hermione said.   
“I’ll get it.”  
“No, no,” Hermione rushed to her feet before he could. She ran to the bar and ordered a double-shot of Firewhisky. She had a long sip before going back to the table. Now that she had sufficient liquor. “Now, where were we?”  
“You were telling me how Pettigrew escaped?”   
“Right,” Hermione said depressed to have missed her opportunity to scold him.   
XXX  
Draco walked into the Leaky Cauldron with Pansy Parkinson. She was complaining about the New Marriage Law and how she bloody well didn’t want to marry anyone. If she did, she would already be married. Did the Ministry honestly think she had gone all these years and never been proposed to? Because if so they were wrong. Draco laughed and smiled.   
“Come now, Pansy cheer up. I’ll buy you a drink.”   
“Oh, look it’s Granger,” Pansy said peering over at the booth.  
Thrilled, Draco feigned surprise. “Well it certainly is.”  
“Maybe we should say hi to your new girlfriend?”  
“She’s not my girlfriend, Pans.”  
“Not yet you mean,” Pansy sniffed. “I’ve known you fancied her since the Yule ball. I was thrilled when I saw the Prophet –” she stopped talking because they had now reached Granger and the prat’s table.   
“Malfoy, how lovely to see you,” Hermione said with a frantic sort of panic. He still noted how beautiful she looked. Quite unlike the dark circles she had been sporting around the Ministry all week. “And Parkinson, it’s been too long!”  
Pansy looked at Draco and he knew what she was thinking. Granger hated Pansy, it had been mutual until some time after the war when Pansy decided Granger wasn’t all bad. She had been ashamed of her actions at the Battle of Hogwarts and had worked hard to do better.   
“Hello Granger. Strange man I’ve never met before,” Draco smirked as he sized Granger’s date up.   
He looked a little like Potter. Now there was a disturbing notion he did not want to examine any closer.   
“I’m Tom.”  
“Marvellous,” Draco said ignoring him. “Ready for Saturday?”  
Hermione perked up. “Yes, I’m quite excited. I really think this will make a difference in the house elf liberation act. I was actually hoping to pick Zabini’s brains regarding werewolves.”   
“I’m sure he’d be thrilled to help. Blaise loves a tough case,” Pansy said smiling in a genuinely friendly way.   
Granger looked at Pansy with a little more scepticism now. Draco realized there was a good chance her date was not going well.   
Splendid!   
“Would you like to join us?” Hermione said just as the other man said; “Well we should let you get on with your date.”   
“It’s not a date,” Pansy supplied with a charming smile at Granger. She sat down and started chatting happily about her boutique in Hogsmeade.   
“And we would love to,” Draco agreed.   
He sat down next to the other bloke and flashed a smile at Granger, which she returned with a smile and a flash of relief in her eyes.   
XXX  
Hermione had never been more relieved to see Malfoy or Parkinson before in her life. Parkinson insisted she call her Pansy to which Hermione then said she might as well call her Hermione.   
“When did you open the store?”   
“Oh, about two months ago. Business is booming. You should come by sometime, I insist. It’s the least I can do after the war.”  
Hermione smiled stiffly. Pansy had tried to turn over Harry to Voldermort and she was not certain she trusted her. “Next time I am in Hogsmeade, I’ll come visit, Parkinson.”   
“You should, her store is lovely,” Malfoy said flashing a fond smile at Pansy. “Mother shops there all the time.”  
Hermione grimaced. As if she was going to shop anywhere Narcissa Malfoy shopped. Seeing the look on her face, Malfoy flashed an easy smile and chuckled.   
“How do you like your team’s chances this season? Thanks to Weasley the Chudley Canons are looking good.”   
Malfoy expression darkened and looked at Hermione. She could read his expression easily enough. ‘Doesn’t he know about Weasley?’.   
“They’re alright, the Weasel isn’t all he’s cracked up to be,” Malfoy said at last.   
Hermione desperate to change the subject scrambled for the first topic that came to mind. “You know Wormwood has many uses in potions, far more than most people know.”  
“Really?” Malfoy quirked an eyebrow, an amused smile played on his lips. “Such as?”   
Hermione scrambled some more. The truth was Wormwood only had the standard uses. How much had she had to drink anyway? One glance told her she was already done with her first drink and there was a good chance, the nightmares were taking its toll on her.   
Tom looked down and his expression changed. “Hermione, I’m sorry I have to go. There’s a case.”  
“No problem.”   
The truth was, she was relieved.   
There was some awkward scrambling as everyone stood. Tom leaned in to kiss her and she ducked her head to the side. She gave him an awkward hug that made her blush.   
“I’ll swing by your office for lunch tomorrow, yeah?”   
“Uhm –” Hermione blushed. It had been a long time since she had rejected a man and finally she landed on the safest option, lying. “I’ve already made plans for lunch with Malfoy. Perhaps another time?”  
“Yeah,” Tom nodded. The coin that Aurors used to call them into the office was glowing even brighter, Harry had borrowed her idea for DA. It was more efficient than the old system. “Bye.”  
Tom Apparated out of the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione gave a great big sigh of relief and ran her hand through her hair.   
“I take it your date didn’t go well?” Malfoy asked without malice, but with a great deal of amusement.   
“You know very well it didn’t,” Hermione said with a look of great exasperation. “Are you through gloating or should I transfigure you into a ferret?”   
“Really? The ferret thing twice in one week? That’s cold, Granger.”  
“Shut up, Draco,” Pansy said with an eye roll. “Since your date was a washout you might as well join us and drink away your sorrows.”  
Seeing that she didn’t have any other plans except returning home to another nightmare filled night at home, Hermione sat down. It turned out both Pansy and Malfoy were quite a lot of fun. After a while, Hermione found herself wondering if they had been like this at Hogwarts. It was strange to think of the students in Slytherin sharing the same type of bond as those in Gryffindor, but she supposed that they did. After all, just because they were bullies didn’t mean they spent all of their bullying each other. In fact, when she thought back on it, Slytherin House had always been united.   
“Well I should get going,” Pansy said after their fourth drink. “I have to open the shop tomorrow morning. It was lovely seeing you again, Granger. Your hair looks fantastic!”  
“Thanks,” Hermione said uncertainly.   
Her head was still reeling from the idea that she had actually enjoyed herself with Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. Recently it seemed as if her life was only becoming more and more peculiar.   
“Are you sober enough to Apparate home, Pans?”  
Pansy gave him a withering look of pure disgust. “Of course, I am. Bloody prat.”   
“Sorry,” Malfoy raised his hands defensively.   
Pansy gave Malfoy a kiss on the cheek and waved at Hermione before she too Apparated away with a loud crack.   
“Care for another round, Granger?”  
Hermione looked down at her still half-full glass. “Better not.”   
Malfoy nodded and ordered himself another drink. “What was wrong with Tom? He seemed perfectly boring and entirely oblivious to the fact that you might not wish to talk about your ex-husband?”   
“Well that actually perfectly summarises it,” Hermione begrudgingly admitted. “All he wanted to talk about before you and Pansy arrived was mine, Harry and Ron’s exploits at Hogwarts. I felt like I was giving an interview.”  
“Granger, correct me if I am wrong, but you have never given an interview in your life.”   
“You know what I mean. I swear, you are the most difficult man I’ve ever met.”   
Malfoy laughed. “I’ll have to take your word for it as I personally think I am delightful.”  
“You’re wrong, but then again you so often are.”  
“Ouch,” Malfoy winked at her and she blushed.   
“I have to confess, I am surprised by how much you’ve changed.”   
“It wasn’t easy. It took years to throw out all the garbage my parents taught me, but I have to say spending a year in hiding with Arthur and Molly Weasley did a lot of the work for me. I rather like Mr Weasley, not that I will ever admit it.”  
Hermione laughed. “He’s wonderful. I often help him regarding the function of various Muggle items.”   
“Yes, I imagine you would. One year in a safe house with him and I think I learned more about Muggles than I ever intended to.”   
“Perhaps you should have taken Muggle Studies?”  
“I feel as if I have.”  
They both laughed at that. Hermione looked up at him shyly. His eyes were the nicest shade of grey, almost silver. How had she never noticed before? Malfoy’s expression changed to from open and friendly to something more – what though? The air felt too full with tension and she felt it weighing on them.   
She cleared her throat and straightened up to break the heavy tension that had come over them. “I should go home. I have work in the morning as well.”  
“Don’t remind me,” Malfoy groaned. “Life at the Ministry is unbearably dull.”  
“Then perhaps you should stay in Quidditch.”  
Malfoy laughed. “You’re hilarious. Not. Come on, I’ll Apparate you home.”   
“No, that’s not necessary.”   
Hermione got to her feet and brushed off her outfit. As if to be contrary, Malfoy got to his feet as well and held out the crook of his arm to her. Hermione eyed his arm dubiously. There had been a time when Malfoy wouldn’t have touched her if his life depended on it. When had that changed?   
“Don’t be stubborn, Granger. I’ve just bought you two rounds of drinks, the least I can do is make certain you get home safely.”  
Hermione studied him not bothering to hide her scepticism. Finally, she nodded, but she did not take his arm. After a moment, he let it fall to his side.  
“Ready?”  
“Yes, but I don’t want anyone to see us Apparate out of here together. I don’t care to have that printed in the Prophet.”   
Malfoy grinned. They walked outside and he led her into a dim alley behind the Leaky Cauldron. It was on the Muggle side of London, which greatly reduced their chances of being spotted by Rita Skeeter or anyone else that might be inclined to share the story with her.   
Malfoy wrapped his arm around her waist. His body was warm and hard. She could feel his rock hard biceps from Quidditch training. Hesitantly, she moved closer and she felt sparks shoot through her at the close contact. With brisk determination she ignored it. They were just friends, which was strange enough.   
She felt the familiar tug of Apparition in her stomach and heard the crack as they vanished. Within the blink of an eye, they stood inside of her kitchen.   
She looked up at Malfoy and those sparks shot through her again. Nervously, she took a step back and made a mental note never to consume alcohol with Malfoy again. He flashed a smile and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. She could have sworn she saw actual warmth in his eyes.  
“Are you sleeping?” he asked his hand lingering on her cheek.   
“Of course I am,” she flushed and took a step back. “I’ve just been working a lot, is that alright with you?”  
Malfoy sighed heavily. “Good night, Granger.”  
“Night.”   
With a crack, Malfoy Disapparated. 

Thank you so much for all the wonderful support for this fic! That’s what keeps me writing even when I am exhausted from work and real life is hectic. I don’t think I’ve said so before, but Sundays are the update days for this fic. I’ll try to stick to it as best I can. T  
So lots happened this chapter, what do you think about the Ron stuff? Oh and the Draco and Hermione things? Not to mention the update to the marriage law, what do you think is going to happen there? I’m fireismylement97 on tumblr if you want to leave me a dramione request.   
\- Izzy


	5. Chapter 5

Two days later and Hermione was ready for the press interview with Luna at Malfoy’s house. She put the finishing touching on her outfit. It was professional, a little nicer than she might ordinarily wear to the office, but it was perfect for this interview. Working closely with Zabini, she had been sent an outfit from Pansy’s new shop. She had been reluctant to accept, but it was a generous offer and she had sent a thank you note to Pansy already.   
The robe was black, slim fitting with white details around the collars and the buttons that went from the high neck and down to the waist were white as well. It was classic and elegant with a matching white cloak. Since it was technically her day off, she had left her hair down and styled it into smooth curls using Sleek-Easy.   
One last inspection in the mirror and she decided she was ready. She Apparated to Malfoy’s house.   
It was with great relief, she arrived someplace other than Malfoy Manor. She wasn’t sure, but she thought his parents still lived there. Malfoy thankfully had bought another house in the countryside. It was a lot larger than Hermione’s own Muggle home and it was ancient. It made her wonder exactly how much money he had, but she suspected he was incredibly wealthy.   
The house looked like it might have once been a Muggle Church and had been renovated. It was made out of roughhewn stone and there was an impeccable English garden surrounding it. There was a path to the house. When she passed a fountain with a statue of a mermaid and water nymphs frolicking in it, she decided she sort of liked Malfoy’s home.  
The front door was a large double door made out of solid oak. The building had definitely been a Church at some point. With her nerves in rise, she knocked on the door. In a matter of seconds, the door opened. At first, Hermione thought there was no one there, but then when she looked down she saw there was a house elf standing in front of her.   
The elf was dressed in a purple day dress and wore a black beret. On her feet were a pair of fancy dress shoes. She smiled and curtsied.   
“You must be Miss Granger, Miss. I’m Mapsy and Mapsy has been expecting Miss Granger. Mister Draco says yous be coming.”   
“Lovely to meet you,” Hermione said smiling. “And please call me, Hermione.”  
“Oh, Miss Hermione you’re as kind as Mister Draco said you were.”  
Hermione smiled tensely. She had enough experience with house elves to know being called Miss Hermione instead of Miss Granger was a great improvement. But more to the point, when had Malfoy ever called her nice?   
Hermione followed Mapsy into the living room, Malfoy was sitting on the sofa with a second house elf. The elf was talking and Hermione was struck by how intently Malfoy seemed to be listening. When they entered he excused himself and came toward them.   
“Granger,” he said nodding pleasantly.   
Hermione was struck silent for a second. Malfoy looked good with his hair in his eyes and the midnight blue robes he wore. They showed off how broad his shoulders were.   
“Malfoy,” she nodded. “How’s everything coming on this end?”  
“Perfectly. Blaise should be here any minute,” he said checking a funny looking watch on his wrist.   
“Thanks for doing this,” Hermione said blushing because she realized she should have probably thanked him a long time ago.   
“It’s no trouble.”   
“I know, but thank you all the same. And thank you Mapsy,” Hermione said addressing the elf.   
She flapped her big ears and broke into a broad grin. “You’re most welcome Miss Hermione. I’s happy to help in any way I can even if I don’ts like to talk to reporters.”  
“My friend Luna isn’t just a reporter and she is very nice.”   
Zabini Apparated in. Hermione smiled and greeted him. She noticed he and Malfoy greeted each other like brothers. They thumped each other on the back and grinned, roughhousing for a couple of minutes as if they were still schoolboys at Hogwarts.   
Then they straightened up and became professional again.   
“I need a word Mapsy,” Zabini said. “I just want to go over a few details before Lovegood arrives.”  
When he said ‘Lovegood’ he exchanged an amused look with Malfoy, who simply glowered back.   
“If either of you as much as think about calling her Loony Lovegood, I’ll hex you into little pieces.”  
“Nice imagery, Granger,” Malfoy said with approval.  
“And we would never,” Zabini said feigning indignance.   
Hermione scowled at them both with disapproval. “I’m not joking. I’ve learned a few new hexes over the years.”  
“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Malfoy agreed.   
Zabini and Mapsy sat down in a little away from Malfoy and Hermione. Hermione wasn’t worried she had been in several meetings with Zabini this week. He knew all about the core points of her law and he knew how to help present that to the public. Now, he was running some interview basics with Mapsy to keep her from getting too nervous.   
Malfoy quirked a brow at her. “Are you ready?”  
“I am,” she agreed readily. “It’s not as if there is anywhere lower to go after the law failed to pass.”   
“Fair point.”   
Hermione peered curiously up at the high ceiling above the living room. It was vast and high with stone. There were large windows that she imagined would be filled with light on sunny days.   
“Did your home used to be a Church?”  
“It did,” he nodded. “Built in the 16th century and converted to a private home sometime in the past century. I did some renovating before I moved in of course.”   
“It’s lovely.”   
“Yes, well,” he cleared his throat and looked away. “I didn’t want to stay at my parents house after the war.”   
There was a pregnant pause as Hermione tried to work out what to say. “I didn’t imagine you could.”  
“It’s not as if I wanted to be there during the war either.”   
“Neither did I,” Hermione mumbled. “Uhm, is it going to be alright for you seeing Luna?”   
“I hope so.”   
“She did say it was alright and you did save her when you saved us.”  
“It was all Dobby. I hate to admit it, but I couldn’t have done anything without his help.”  
Hermione nodded. Thinking of Dobby was always painful.   
She looked at Malfoy again, really looked at him. He seemed genuine as he watched Zabini and Mapsy across the room. Was Dobby part of his motivation to change? She wanted to ask, but it seemed too personal. Especially given that the war still haunted her, the bags underneath her eyes were bigger than ever however, she had glamored them away this morning. If she still suffered the aftermath of the war, she was sure Malfoy did as well.   
“Have you heard from Tom?”  
“No, and I can’t decide if I’m more offended or relieved,” she confessed with a grimace. “How is your hunt for a wife coming?”  
“I still haven’t done any hunting.”   
“Merlin,” Hermione said. “At this rate, you’re still going to be single by the time the year is up.”  
“Very amusing, Granger.”  
She flashed a smile. “Little known fact, but I am hilarious.”  
Malfoy snorted a laugh. “Now that I will believe when I see it.”   
There was a knock on the door. Malfoy went to open it and returned shortly with Luna and a reporter she introduced as James. James was a small, quiet man, who stood in the background and as far as Hermione could tell let Luna do all the talking even when a question was directed at him.   
“Luna!” Hermione exclaimed. She hadn’t seen her old friend in over a year because she was always travelling the world looking for new creatures. She rushed over and gave her a hug. “I’ve missed you!”   
“I have missed you too. You wouldn’t believe the Girglibops, I have encountered.”  
Hermione pulled away and put on a smile. She glanced over her shoulder to Malfoy, who shrugged as if to say ‘I’ve no idea what a Girglibop is’.  
“How are you doing?”  
“Not too bad all things considered. We are applying to the Ministry to get an extension on our wedding.”  
“You’re engaged?”  
“I am,” Luna said with a dreamy smile. “He’s wonderful.” She then turned her eyes on Malfoy as if she was looking through him. “Malfoy, how are you?”   
Malfoy looked visibly uncomfortable, but managed a tense smile. “Fine, you?”  
“Wonderful,” Luna continued. “Much nicer than your old place.”  
Malfoy’s eye twitched and Hermione felt a stab of sympathy. One that her instincts made her want to squash, but she had to remind herself, he hadn’t wanted to be a Death Eater and he had saved all of their lives.   
“Blaise is over here, ready for the interview?” Malfoy asked Luna.   
Hermione watched the interview take place with avid fascination. Then she had to answer a few questions about why this was her passion project and why it was so important. The answers came to her easily after all these years of fighting for equality. Yet somehow, it was easier to talk about with Luna, she was one of the only people that had always understood. Finally, Malfoy answered some questions about why he had made the choices he had with his staff and how they had improved.   
Finally, they all had tea. Hermione was surprised to find herself enjoying an interview this much. Occasionally, she gave interviews on behalf of the Ministry, but none of the Prophet’s reporters were as unbiased and relaxed as Luna.   
In the end, it was just Hermione and Malfoy left. She had stayed behind to discuss the possibility of his support in future interviews.   
“Of course, I will help and I am sure my staff is more than willing to help in any way we can,” Malfoy replied easily.   
“Thank you. I should get going,” Hermione said getting to her feet rather awkwardly.   
“I can take you, if you’d like.”   
“You have a car?” the question popped from her mouth before she could stop herself. “Of course, you don’t.”   
“Muggles,” Malfoy said with a rueful smile. “I don’t recall you flying much at Hogwarts.”  
“I am not riding on your broom, Malfoy.”  
“Come on, it’ll be fun.”   
There was a twinkle in his eye and a friendliness to his smile that she found hard to resist. Of course, that was exactly why she should.   
“I really don’t think so.”   
“Granger, live a little. I fly for a living, what’s the worst thing that can happen?”  
“We fly too close to an airplane and get sucked into their propellers.”  
Malfoy stared at her with concentration. It was as if he was finding it hard to understand that sentence.  
“I promise that won’t happen,” he said at last still not looking certain.   
There was something about how open and friendly he seemed that made it impossible to resist. She had flown on the back of broomsticks before, had even flown herself on occasion though she didn’t like it. But being a passenger? It was something she actually enjoyed if she trusted the person flying.   
“Fine,” she relented. “But you had better hope we make it there without any major scares.”  
Malfoy looked so happy that she was thrilled about her choice.   
They went out to the backyard and Malfoy got out his broom. He got on and he gestured for her to follow. Tentatively, Hermione got on the back of the broom. She put her arms around his waist and the second she did, she realized her mistake.   
Sitting this close to him, she could feel every muscle in his body. He was lean and yet well-muscled. It made a thrill go through her that she quickly squashed.   
“If you get scared at any point, just say so and we will land, alright?”  
“Yeah.”  
With that determination to be brave filled her.   
Malfoy kicked off and she clung to him even tighter than before, which was did maddening things to her already frazzled state of mind. She felt the ground leave her and another thrill went through her. Flying felt amazing, it felt like magic in a way that was sorely needed.   
The higher up they got, the more amazing she felt. As they rose above the clouds, a laugh of excitement escaped her. She gazed down at the fluffy white clouds and felt freer than she had in a long time.   
XXX  
Draco heard Granger’s laugh and it made him smile. She rarely laughed and it was a rare pleasure he allowed himself to enjoy. Unfortunately, having her body wrapped so tightly around his was driving him mad. So with crystal clear focused, he kept his eyes on the sky and concentrated on his flying.   
The flight to Granger’s was all too brief. He landed smoothly and helped her off. Her expression made all of the frustration he had felt on the way over feel worth it. Her hair was mussed up, bushy like it used to be at school and her cheeks were pink. There was a rare sight of exhilaration in her eyes.   
He walked her to her door. She stood there, fumbling for the keys for a moment before looking up at him. Her brown eyes still danced with excitement and he felt himself smiling at her. Sometimes, she felt like he was always smiling now, as if he was making up for all the years at Hogwarts when he had worn nothing but a sneer.   
“Thank you for the ride home. It was fun.”   
“And there were no near fatal accidents.”   
“You fly well,” she said with an awkward smile. “Thanks again.”   
Another one of those mad impulses that had seized him on New Year’s Eve came upon him now. Her smile and the look in her eyes must have knocked all of the sense out of his head because there was no other explanation for what he did next.   
Draco leaned in and he cupped her face with one hand. Her expression registered bewilderment, but she saw none of that as he pressed his lips to hers. She tensed and for a brief moment, he thought he would have to pull away when he felt her kiss him back.   
Her touch was hesitant as she placed her hands on his chest and parted her lips for him.   
XXX  
Malfoy’s kiss had been unexpected and she must be losing control of her faculties, Hermione decided when she kissed him back. This kiss was slower than the one they had shared before. It was gentle and hesitant as they explored each other.   
A soft whimper escaped her lips. Malfoy nipped at her bottom lip and she gasped in surprise. Her eyes flickered open for a second and she caught a glimpse of grey eyes.   
That was all it took to snap her out of it.   
With a force that shocked even her, she pushed him away. She was gasping for breath and she stared at him in shock and outrage. All of it aimed at herself.   
“Stay away from me,” she hissed. “This – whatever it is, stops now!”   
Malfoy stared at her with hurt and shock in his expression.   
“Granger –”  
Hermione stormed inside and slammed the door shut on him.   
With the door closed, she fell against it.   
What the bloody hell had just happened? And why did she keep kissing Malfoy? Worse still was how wonderfully right it felt, but that was stupid. Probably just a side effect of her divorce from Ron, it was normal to latch onto something familiar, she rationalized. Especially, with all of this pressure from the new law.   
Yes, that was all it was.   
XXX  
Draco was in a foul mood next day at work. He was barely paying attention to the paperwork he was supposed to be filling out. It was arrangements for the next Triwizard Tournament. After the hiccups at the last one before the war, arranging it to happen again was challenging to say the least. There had been a stall in the tournament post-war and now Bagman was looking forward to making it happen again.   
Draco wasn’t certain he agreed it was a good idea. The bloody tournament was dangerous and the international relations were tense. Blaise had tried to dissuade Bagman a year ago, tried to tell him things were still too tense after the war. Voldemort’s reign however, temporary had shaken the wizarding world and many still feared and were suspicious of the British Ministry. he could hardly fault them.   
These were the things he should be thinking about. Instead, all he could focus on was what had happened last time. It had been the end of his childhood and before that, he had watched Granger run around with Krum. Well run around was perhaps the wrong term. Their relationship had been nothing if not discrete. If it weren’t for the Yule ball and Rita Skeeter’s articles, he likely would never have known.   
The sight of Granger at the Yule ball, had been incredible. It was a memory he would cherish until the day he died. A memory that had only been added to when he saw her at the Ministry dinner last week. She was a vision and this time he was free to fully enjoy it. He wasn’t bound by his family’s inane prejudices any longer.   
His already frazzled morning was disturbed when a grand owl swooped into his office. He immediately recognized his mother’s owl, Lorena. He took the note and fed her a treat. 

Dearest Draco,   
I used what little influence our family has left at the Ministry to make some changes to the new Marriage Law. Nothing too tarried, I simply pointed out to the right person that they left out the part that made it the most successful. Nothing too serious, but I may have used some gold to grease the bureaucratic wheels a little to help you along.   
Love,   
Your mother. 

Draco groaned. He crumpled up the note and threw it in the trashcan. He didn’t even want to begin to contemplate what his mother’s latest scheme was however, one thing was for certain, Granger was likely involved. After the kiss on Saturday, he doubted Granger would want anything to do with him.   
Draco got to his feet and went to find Blaise. He needed to know what his mother was planning. That way, perhaps he could prevent it or at least warn Granger. If she got blindsided and thought he had any part in this, she was likely to hex him until he went insane.   
Blaise was in his office, Draco knocked before striding in. Blaise looked up from some paperwork.   
“What can I help you with?”  
Draco sat down in the chair across from his desk. His eyes narrowed as he contemplated the trouble coming his way.   
“My mother has been interfering with the Marriage Law. Do you know anything about this?”  
Blaise’s eyes widened in surprise. “I do not. However, I can probably find out. Unfortunately, telling you would be a gross violation of the Ministry’s regulations.”  
“Blaise,” Draco said in a hiss. “Tell me what you want in exchange already. I am not in the mood for games.”   
Blaise grinned and there was a mischievousness to it that made Draco certain he was going to regret talking to Blaise.   
XXX  
Hermione felt frazzled. She was filling out forms and desperately trying to ignore the headlines Rita Skeeter was writing in Witch Weekly about her passion project with her new boyfriend. Luckily, no reporters had seen her trip to the Leaky Cauldron. It would have been an improvement because after a few weeks of Tom, it would likely get dull for the readers. But since she had ended the night with Malfoy, it would have been more of the same. Her supposed romance with Malfoy would probably sell more papers, especially since Skeeter kept finding new ways to bring up his Death Eater background.   
To make matters worse, she had received two owls from Tom asking for a second date. A third one appeared when she turned him down. Followed by a delivery of flowers and chocolates, both of which sat on her desk as she tried to figure out what to do with them.   
And every time she closed her eyes, she relived the kiss with Malfoy. She could still feel his lips against hers and it only added to her agitation. She was sure if she could just get one night’s good rest, it would go away, but as usual the Sleeping Draught did her no good. She would stay asleep, trapped in the nightmares or more accurately memories of the war.   
The very last thing Hermione’s day or even week needed was the arrival of a howler from Ron. It landed on her desk from Pig, who Hermione gave a nibblet and scratched him under the beak. Then he squawked and flew off just as the scarlet envelope began to hiss and rattle.   
Sighing, Hermione opened it.   
Ron’s voice bellowed a hundred times magically amplified in the small room. Acting quickly, she cast a Muffilato charm on the room. If Ron wanted to be an ass that was his problem, but she would not allow the whole office to hear. Not after, the scene he had caused last week. She was determined not to allow the drama of her love life to interfere with her ordinary life anymore than necessary.   
“NOW YOU’RE WORKING WITH THAT WANKER? I CAN’T BELIEVE – I LOVE YOU! I WANT YOU – YOU PICK HIM OVER ME?”  
On and on the howler went for nearly five minutes. Hermione spent the time racking her brain for spells to counteract howlers only to sadly conclude there weren’t any in existence. She toyed with the idea of inventing one. Finally, when Ron’s voice stopped shouting, she started compiling a list of possible solutions to this new problem.   
Tom’s feelings and the media hype she couldn’t do much about. Maybe she couldn’t even prevent her nightmares, but Ron? She could stop him from harassing her at any moment if only she could think of a way to make him stop.   
When she was done writing suggestions, she had a neat little list of steps to take to force Ron to leave her alone. 

1\. Tell him to stop contacting her because if he didn’t, she was going to his mother.   
2\. Talk to Molly.   
3\. If it continues talk to Harry and the other Aurors.   
4\. Publicly announce to the world that he was basically stalking her.   
5\. Hex him into oblivion. 

She thought number four was perhaps the most likely to stop him if all else failed. She doubted there was much Harry could aside from talking to him. Ron hadn’t broken any laws and Aurors area of specialty was after all dark wizards, not disputes between ex-spouses. But talking to the press? Well that would publicly embarrass him right before the Quidditch season began.   
It was perfect.   
It was also why Hermione took the afternoon off to visit the Burrow. She arrived by Floo and landed in the Weasley’s kitchen. Coughing, she stepped out of the fireplace, waving a hand in front of her face.   
Molly was cooking lunch and her expression was irritated. When she looked up and saw Hermione, she broke into a broad smile.   
“Hermione my dear! Come on I,” Molly said bustling forward and pulling Hermione toward the table. “Have a seat.”   
Molly made her a cup of tea and filled her a plate full of sandwiches.   
“Thank you, Molly,” Hermione said flushing. She always felt guilty when Molly fussed over her, but even more so after the divorce.  
“Not at all. You’re looking too thin,” Molly said peering at her over own cup of tea. “What brings you by?”  
“I need to talk to Ron. I thought maybe he was still staying here?”  
“Here?” Molly looked scandalized. “Ron hasn’t stayed here since the Christmas holidays. He left as soon as he could. I think perhaps George’s teasing did little to help matters.”   
“I’m not actually dating Malfoy and we didn’t go to Paris together. We just sort of bumped into each other.”   
“No need to explain. Ginny already told me everything,” Molly said with a conspiratorial smile. “Ordinarily, I wouldn’t play along with George’s games, but after what Ron did – to – an affair! I’ve never!”   
“I know. I appreciate your support in all of this,” Hermione said trying put as much kindness into her voice as possible. Molly was the only maternal figure left in her life and she needed her to know how much she appreciated it. “You don’t happen to have Ron’s new address do you?”   
“Are you sure that’s a good idea, dear? I’d hate to see you get back together again after the way Ron treated you.”  
“Oh, no it’s nothing like that,” Hermione felt guilt churn in her stomach the way it always when she told a lie to someone she respected. “There is just some finer points of our divorce we need to finalize.”   
Molly didn’t look as if she fully believed her, but at least she didn’t question her about it.   
Hermione stayed for lunch and then flooed to Ron’s flat in Diagon Alley. He was in the kitchen stuffing his mouth full of food as he read the Daily Prophet. He looked up in surprise when she entered his kitchen then his expression shifted to smugness. She recognized it from back at Hogwarts. It was the same look he wore whenever he got any attention and Harry it didn’t. It was how he had looked whenever he told increasingly wild tales about his adventures like the time when they all thought Sirius Black had tried to murder him. She used to find it exasperating and a little annoying, but after the howler he sent her this morning, she found it downright infuriating.   
“Ronald Bilius Weasley,” she seethed. “How dare you send me a howler? How dare you tell me how to live my life after you had an affair? And from what I gather from the papers, you aren’t exactly lacking for company. Now explain yourself,” she crossed her arms and stared him down.   
Ron gulped, fear filling his eyes. “It’s simple, ‘Mione. I love you and I want you back.”  
“And by what messed up logic is this the way to go about it?”  
“Well you’re the one that’s acting like a slag.”   
“Excuse me?” Hermione’s hand twitched to hex him. “We are never getting back together, Ron. Not now, not ever because let me make this crystal clear, you’re out of mind and after what you did, you make me sick.”   
“Knock it off, ‘Mione. We both know you miss me.”  
That was too much for her. She no longer recognized him as the boy she had been friends with at school and she exploded with rage. “WHAT HAS HAPEPNED TO YOU? I HATE YOU!”   
Ron rolled his eyes. “I’m the keeper for the Chudley Canons. No one hates me.” “  
“Well, I’m a Wimbourne Wasp fan now,” Hermione stated in an ice cold tone of voice. “And if you ever bother me again, I will tell your mother.”   
Ron paled. “THEIR TEAM IS TERRIBLE – A DEATH EATER!”   
Hermione didn’t stay long enough to hear the rest of his insults. She simply said; “Leave me alone, Ron. It’s for the best.”   
Then she Disapparated.   
XXX  
Hermione felt like a zombie over the course of the next few days.   
There was a knock on her office door, which disrupted her work. She told the person to come in and Andrew stepped in. He was levitating two cups of tea in front of him and carrying a letter. His expression was both excited and tense.   
Hermione accepted the tea gratefully. The letter, she was less certain about. She saw that it was from the Legislative Department of the Ministry.   
“What’s this?”  
“Oh, it arrived a moment ago. It seems like most of the employees have received them;” Andrew said peering at her over his teacup.   
“Did you get one?”  
“No,” Andrew’s smile broadened. “Perhaps it’s about the Marriage Law?”  
Hermione groaned. “Of course it is, which is why you don’t have one. And stop looking so cheerful or I’ll sack you.”  
“Oh, come now, don’t be so grumpy,” Andrew rolled his eyes. “Just because I’ve already found the love of my life in Heath although I do wish he would send me flowers,” he said casting a wistful look at the flowers and chocolates from Tom that were still sitting on his desk.   
“Go on,” Hermione said opening the box of chocolates. “Someone should enjoy them.”   
“What was wrong with Tom anyway?”   
“Nothing really, I just felt like I was on a date with a fan. It was horribly embarrassing.”  
“Are you sure he was a fan or are you simply used to Ron? He never seemed to admire you enough if you ask me.”   
She gave him an exasperated look. “Honestly, Andrew. He kept asking all of these questions about my adventures at school and I – I don’t want to be a hero. I don’t want adventures. I just want to free house elves.”   
Andrew laughed. “And that’s exactly what makes you my hero. You aren’t doing it for fame or acknowledgment, you just want to make the world a better place.”   
“Oh, Andrew, what would I ever do without you?” Hermione said moved. “What do you say we have a look at this letter?”  
Andrew nodded eagerly.  
With bated breath, Hermione opened the letter. It was worse than she feared.   
“Due to problems regarding pairing up all eligible singles, who have not found a partner since the last letter are going to be submitted for the Amore spellcasting.”  
“Never heard of it.”  
Hermione frowned. “Of course you haven’t. It hasn’t’ been used in centuries. It’s an ancient spell casting that can find a person’s ideal match. It’s closely related to arithmancy and ancient runes. I believe there is also some potion brewing required, if memory serves.”   
Andrew stared at her completely impressed. “How are you not a professor? You should teach with that brain of yours.”   
Hermione blushed. “But don’t you see what this means?”  
“A spell is going to find you a husband?”  
“Precisely, this is archaic and I can’t see how this is legal.”   
“Perhaps you should consult with that handsome lawyer bloke of yours? You know the diplomat, Zacharia or whatever his name is.”  
“Zabini,” Hermione corrected. “And I’m going to do precisely that.”  
A few minutes later and Hermione was in a completely different wing and floor of the Ministry. She was in Zabini’s office. He poured them each a cup of tea, which made her like him. There was something cosy and inviting about the Ministry employees that served tea when she stopped in.   
“What can I do for you?” Zabini asked.   
“I was wondering about this new law and the spell.”  
“Oh, that,” Zabini said looking a little green. “I want it noted that I was opposed to its implementation. However, I was overruled.”   
“There can’t really be precedent for it. I know it may have been used in the past, but even most of the wizarding world has moved on past arranged marriages. They haven’t been common for over three hundred years.”  
Zabini looked impressed. “It hasn’t been. Yet when this law has been enacted in the past it has been used with it to avoid chaos and to ensure that everyone found the best possible match given the circumstances.”  
“So why wasn’t it a part of the initial legislation?”  
“It was originally dismissed and the Ministry had been working on setting people up on randomized dates to help even the most introverted witch or wizard meet people, but then something happened. I’m not certain, but I believe there was outside influence. Not that you heard this from me.”   
“I understand,” she said thinking about it. “Do you have any idea who it might be?”  
Zabini shook his head. “Someone with both money and influence.”   
“It also has to be someone that benefits from it in some way. Perhaps someone, who is hoping for a specific match?”   
“Perhaps.”   
Zabini looked as if he knew more than he was saying. Hermione made up her mind to find out exactly how this had occurred even if it took a decade.   
XXX  
Draco took time off to visit his mother. Narcissa was expecting him and had tea ready in the drawing room. She was dressed in a regal red robe and her hair was done up in one of those intricate styles she favoured. She looked him over and beckoned with a hand for him to join her.   
“Hello Draco dear,” Narcissa said with a small smile. “What brings you by?”  
“Don’t play coy with me mother, I received your owl.”   
“Did you now? I thought perhaps my owl had failed since you never replied.”   
Draco took a seat across from her and scowled.   
“We both know you are behind this new law.”  
He placed the Ministry letter on the table. Daintily, Narcissa picked it up and read it. She raised her eyebrows.   
“How marvellous. This will ensure you the perfect match.”   
“Mother,” he said in irritated tones. “What did you do?”  
“I may have greased a few palms and used my connections at the Ministry.”   
Draco groaned. “How could you? Does father know?”  
“Why are you complaining, dear? I should think you would be happy especially since I arranged for you to be matched with the Granger girl. The one you are so enamoured with.”   
“Mother please, we are friends. Sort of,” Draco said thinking of how the last time he had seen Granger she had yelled at him.   
“Sort of?” she raised eyebrows. “Honestly, Draco. I have always known how you felt about the girl. And perhaps there was a time when it filled me with shame. After all, you betrayed your family for her during the war. Now on the other hand, it gives me great pride. It shows you are capable of adapting in a way your father never has been. You will be the one that restores our family name.”  
“Bloody hell,” Draco growled. “I don’t care about our family name. All that nonsense and pride is what lead to our downfall. If we weren’t so obsessed with blood purity to begin with we never would have sided with the dark lord. If we had not sided with him, we would never have been disgraced.”   
Narcissa smiled. “You have conviction. I am proud of you.”   
“Mother, please undo this.”  
“It’s too late. The die has been cast.”   
Draco felt the beginnings of a migraine forming. How was he supposed to explain this to Granger? If she ever learned his mother was behind this, she would never forgive him.   
XXX  
Hermione was in the Malfoy dungeon screaming for help. She was convulsing in pain until Malfoy rescued her with Dobby again.   
They escaped the Mansion and Hermione watched as Dobby’s lifeless body crumpled. She cried as Harry held him in his arms. It was impossible for Voldemort and his followers to find them here on this rocky beach.   
She felt a hand on her shoulder. At first she had thought it was Ron, but when she looked over, she saw he was on his knees crying near Harry and Dobby. She looked back and saw it was Malfoy. On his face she was guilt. Nothing short of heart wrenching guilt.   
“Are you alright?” he asked. “Let me see your arm.”   
“No,” she pulled her arm to her chest, cradling it protectively. “I’m fine. I’ll have Mrs Weasley look at it when we get back.”   
“Are you sure?” Malfoy’s voice was surprisingly gently.   
Hermione stared at him in shock. Still unable to process what had happened at the Manor. Had he really saved them? Before she could formulate a reply or ask him why he had done it, why he would turn his back on everything his family stood for Ron interrupted.   
“Oy, you git, stay away from her!”   
“Ron,” Hermione said. “He saved our lives. I don’t think he’s about to kill us.”   
“She’s right. Like it or not Weasel, I’m one of the good guys now.”  
“You’ll never be a good guy,” Ron spat.   
He grabbed Hermione’s wrist and pulled her away from Malfoy.   
The scene changed and Hermione was in her living room with Ron. He had packed a suitcase and they were shouting at each other.   
“HOW COULD YOU? GET OUT!”   
“I LOVE YOU!”   
“YOU LOVE YOURSELF! AND THAT GIRL IS PROOF!”   
“YOU SLAG! WHO DID YOU SLEEP WITH BEOFRE WE GOT TOGETHER? MALFOY? THAT FUCKING DEATH EATER?”  
“I KNEW THAT WAS WHAT THIS WAS ABOUT! AND IT WASN’T –”  
“IT WAS YOU FILTHY SLAG!”   
“GET OUT!” 

Hermione woke with a start. Sunlight was trickling in through the drapes and she sighed. The clock on her nightstand told her she had only gotten three hours of sleep last night, but with the nightmares it felt like even less. She had known Ron was angry with her for sleeping with someone else, but that wasn’t his business. They weren’t together.   
If she chose to sleep with Viktor Krum in her fourth year that was no concern of his. Ron was the one that didn’t ask her to the ball and then got jealous, he ruined the whole night for her. In hindsight, Hermione should have known back then that he would be nothing except trouble and heartache. He was dissatisfied with himself and his lot in life, how could she think he would have changed that much?   
Except it hadn’t been the war that changed Ron. It was his Quidditch career and his new status as a war hero. He was no longer shunted to the side, overlooked and ignored in favour of his brothers and Harry. Yes, even next to Hermione he was often overlooked until he took the Chudley Canons to new heights. Then Hermione spent a lot of time trying to stay out of the news and trying to keep their relationship private.   
Something, which Ron fought at every step. He was always trying to get her to come with him to press events on the rare occasions he was home. She rarely went and when she did, she was awkward. She hated the attention. She understood that Ron wanted someone, who was as eager for fame as he was, but what she couldn’t stand was that he had to tear her down for wanting her privacy.   
Exhausted, Hermione got ready for work. She was almost falling asleep in her morning tea when an owl soared in through the window. Crookshanks hopped up onto the kitchen counter. He watched the owl with interest, waving his bottlebrush tail back and forth.   
Reluctantly, Hermione took the letter from its leg. Every owl that came by recently brought bad news with them. She gave the owl a treat and scratched it behind its ears.   
“It’s not your fault you’re bringing me bad news.”   
Hermione opened the letter. 

Dear Ms Granger, 

The spell has been cast and you have been paired with Ronald Bilius Weasley. If you are already in a current relationship please let us know. He has been given the news as well. 

Hermione couldn’t even read the rest. She crumped up the letter and threw it in the trash.   
Her morning was about to get worse, she discovered when Ron flooed in through the fireplace. He was holding a pair of crumpled roses and wafted the dirt off his robe. That was another new thing about Ron, since becoming a Quidditch star, he only wore the most expensive robes.  
“Good morning, ‘Mione,” he said with what she felt sure he thought was a winning smile. “Now that magic has matched us as the perfect I’m sure you’ll agree it’s time to start again.”  
There was absolutely no deterring this maniac.   
Hermione felt her blood boil. “Who are you? I don’t recognize you anymore, Ron! It’s as if you’ve gone out and changed every single thing about you that I used to love about you!”   
“Used to?” he was starting to turn red. “Used to? Stop being a bloody fool! It’s Ministry ordered and you should be grateful –”  
“Grateful?” Hermione hissed. “Grateful? I’ll show you grateful. I have a boyfriend.”   
“Who that Death Eater you have been running around with! Hah! As if he will marry a Muggleborn.”   
Hermione saw red. “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! I’D RATHER SPEND THE REST OF MY DAYS IN AZKABAN THAN MARRY YOU!”  
Ron didn’t budge. So fed up, Hermione Apparated out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone that has read, commented, giving kudos and bookmarked this fic!   
> What did you think of the dramione kiss and hermione being matched with the wrong man? I'm fireismyelement97 on tumblr if you want to request a dramione drabble.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone, who has read this fic! I appreciate every kudos, bookmark and comment! Let me know what you thought of this chapter :)   
> I'm fireismyelement97 on tumblr if you want to leave me a drabble request for dramione.

Draco was not having a good morning. It was almost an hour since the owl arrived with the letter. He had been matched with Daphne Greengrass. His ex-wife. How had this happened? His mother had assured him, he would be matched with Granger.   
He had thought nothing could be worse than trapping Granger. But clearly, he had been wrong. He was about to Apparate to his family home to ask his mother what the bloody hell when a crack sounded near him.   
Granger was standing in his living room. She looked furious. Her bushy hair was even bushier than usual and her face was an angry shade of red. She was only half-dressed, she was still wearing slippers. If she hadn’t been wearing an expression that reminded him of an angry Hippogriff the sight might have made him laugh.   
“What’s wrong?”  
“Ron!” she snarled.   
“Oh, what did the Weasel do now?”  
“I got matched with him and he actually thinks I’m going to marry him.”  
“Ponce,” Draco scoffed. “I take it did not go over well.”   
“NO!”   
“I also got paired with –”  
“I told him you were my boyfriend,” Granger blurted out. “And now –”  
“Yes, I’ll marry you,” Draco said so fast he flushed with embarrassment. “I mean that’s where you were going with this, right?”  
“Yeah,” Granger blinked and stared at him. “Wow, whoever you got must be –”  
“It was Daphne.”   
“Oh dear,” Granger said faintly. She sat down at a chair in his kitchen. “Seems we both got screwed over by the Ministry.”  
“I’ll say.”  
Draco put on a kettle of tea. Granger sat at the table looking dumbstruck as he worked. Back at Hogwarts, he would have enjoyed seeing her this distressed. Now he didn’t relish it the way he might have once.   
He used magic to levitate teacups onto the table and poured them each a cup of raspberry tea.   
“Thanks,” Hermione said still looking dazed.   
“So what did Ron say when you told him that you had a boyfriend?”  
“Nothing much. Mostly he was shouting about how I couldn’t possibly be dating you, much less marry you.”   
“Since it’s the thing he wants the least, it’s what you want the most?”  
“Yes,” Hermione cleared her throat and had a sip of tea. “I’ve done a little thinking.”  
“In the two minutes you’ve been at my house?” he asked raising an eyebrow.   
“Yes,” she said turning an adorable shade of pink. “And since it’s a convenience thing forced on us by the Ministry, I was thinking we need a few rules in place.”   
Draco had some tea. He needed to collect his thoughts and get over that last blow. For one brief second, he had believed he would have thought he would have everything he wanted. It was stupid of course.  
“Such as?”  
“It’s an arrangement. We are friends. There’s no need to complicate things by dating. And even though I don’t want to go through another divorce, I was thinking after the five years are up and we have the children, we can go our separate ways if we want.”   
“Hey Granger, you do know how children are made, don’t you?”  
She turned an even brighter shade of pink and looked away. “Muggles have ways of going about that, which don’t require physical contact.”  
“Sounds fun,” he said in a dry tone of voice. “However, I agree to your terms. Suppose this makes us friends again.”  
Draco decided to resign himself to taking what he could get. If Hermione didn’t want to be with him, he would simply enjoy it for as long as it lasted and try not to get anymore attached than he already was.   
“Yes,” she admitted and he could tell it pained her. “But for the last time, we are just friends.”   
“I agree to your terms, but I’m not certain I like them,” he said deciding to lay it all on the line.   
“What are you saying?”   
“I’m saying, I would like to date you.”   
“No, not going to happen.”   
Draco clenched his fist, trying to think. “Very well. Whatever suits you so long as I don’t need to marry Daphne once more.”   
XXX  
Malfoy’s open and friendly expression turned into the cold mask she had known so well from her days at Hogwarts. She recognized it as the expression he wore when he wanted to conceal his feelings. Hermione wanted him to know she was grateful to him.   
“Thank you for doing this,” Hermione said in a grateful sigh. “I don’t know what I would do if I had to put up with Ron for another second let alone another marriage. Suppose I could appeal to the Ministry.”  
“Don’t be absurd. This is the easiest solution for us both.”  
“Suppose it is.”   
“I have to go back to the Wimbourne Wasps tomorrow, perhaps you’ll come to a game or two?”   
“Bloody hell,” she groaned. “You’re a Quidditch player. I actually forgot.”  
Malfoy looked at her as if he couldn’t believe she could forget.   
“Yes, as you should know.”   
“But you’ve been at the Ministry and I am not marrying another Quidditch player. This was idiotic, I should go.”   
Hermione got up to leave and Malfoy caught her wrist.   
“Granger, wait. I don’t know precisely what happened between you and the Weasel. However, I can assure you I am not him. And even if we are just friends, I come home frequently from Scotland. My main base is here.”   
Well that was unexpected, she thought. That was the main problem with her and Ron. He had never come home. He was too busy with Quidditch and perhaps she could have made more of an effort and visited him. But those visits usually came with press and fans.   
“This really is your last season? Because everything else can wait until you return from the season. All of the wedding preparations, it can wait until then.”   
“I suppose it can. The season ends in a couple of months. It’ll be over by August at the latest assuming we make it to the world cup.”   
“Thanks,” Hermione said. “I’m not actually ready to start dating yet and I should have realized it sooner. I know it’s not fair to put you in this position after you kissed me last week, but I don’t have anywhere else to turn.”   
Malfoy’s expression was still blank. “Well having your ex show up at breakfast can have that affect.”   
“Yeah, it can,” she agreed and was starting to get nervous. “I should go. I have work.”   
Malfoy checked the time on his watch. “I think we should probably agree on a few things before you leave. We need at least a few things straight about the wedding.”   
“I suppose we should at least set a date with all of the upcoming weddings I would assume everything is going to be booked.”   
“I’ll talk to my mother. She can help you plan and has access to my fortune in Gringotts.”   
“Malfoy –”  
“Believe me, she will want to help,” he interrupted. “And I want no part of wedding planning so the least I can do is fund it.”  
“Are you certain?”   
Hermione tried to think about the last time Ron had offered up his Quidditch fortune this readily. Sadly, she realized he had never shared much. Last time they went on a vacation together over a year ago, he had paid for his half and she had paid for hers.   
“I am. Go as big or as small as you like. I am up for whatever you want.”   
“I don’t feel right about letting you fund everything.”  
“I insist,” he said with a smile. “And my mother would love to help.”   
“Are you sure about that? Because the last time we met was during the war and we weren’t exactly on the same page.”   
Malfoy grimaced. “I’m not saying you two have a lot in common or even have the same motives for wanting this marriage however, since the Prophet began writing articles about us, she has been more than encouraging.”   
Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Define encouraging.”  
Something was starting to click in her mind. Zabini had implement the Ministry had been interfered with regarding this spell. Perhaps Mrs Malfoy had had a hand in this as well? No, that didn’t track. Mrs Malfoy wouldn’t know better than to pair her son with his ex wife, but the thought didn’t leave her. Someone had messed with their results.   
It was not possible her perfect match was the same bastard, who had cheated on her. Made her miserable for the past year, who had spent the last couple of weeks harassing her in his misguided attempt to win her back. That alone was suspicious enough, combined with what she had heard from Zabini, it was a good theory. She made a mental note to run it by Harry when he came back from hunting down dark wizards in South America.   
Malfoy rolled his eyes and said in his usual drawl. “Trust me on this would you? My mother will be happy about the news.”   
“Fine, but if she tries to hex me, I’m going to be livid. And I will hex her back.”   
Malfoy groaned. “Don’t hex my mother. I promise she won’t hex you first. Believe me, she’s been on me for weeks to ask you out after the Prophet article.”  
“Sure, she has.”   
“I was as surprised as you were.”   
“Fine, but I’m serious about it. If she hexes me, I’ll hex her back.”   
“Fortunately, I doubt it will come to that,” Malfoy said in utter exasperation.   
“I hope so. I had my fill of hexes and fighting during the war,” she checked the time on her wrist. “I should get home. I have to change before work.”   
“I’ll take you.”  
“That’s not necessary.”   
“What if the Weasel is still there?”  
“His name is Ron and I will throw him out.”   
“But wouldn’t it be priceless to see the look on his face when I come back with you?” he raised an eyebrow. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes. That was the closest thing to emotions he had come since, shutting them down halfway through this conversation.   
Not wanting the friendly Malfoy she had come to like as a friend to disappear entirely, she decided to give in on this one thing.   
“Fine.”   
Hermione had thought they would Apparate over separately. It seemed Malfoy had other plans. He took her hand and pulled her into his arms. She tried to ignore him and focus on anything except how good his arms felt. He was tall and fit, his muscles were rock hard, which was perhaps the hardest thing to ignore.   
There was a loud crack as they Apparated.   
In the next second, they were in her kitchen. To her horror, she saw Ron was sitting at her kitchen table. He was eating her biscuits and having tea. His face was an angry shade of red and he was clearly moping.   
His expression turned an ugly shade of puce when he saw her with Malfoy. He got to his feet furiously.   
“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?”  
Malfoy scoffed and his hand went to his wand. Hermione caught his wrist and shook her head. “I could ask you the same thing. What are you still doing in her house?”   
“Just go home, Ron,” Hermione said. “I don’t want to have to tell your mother.”   
Malfoy chuckled.   
“SHE DOESN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!”   
“Got to admit, it sort of sounds like she does,” Malfoy drawled. “Now get out, Weasel.”   
“He’s right, Ron. It’s over and you need to leave.”  
“And if you don’t want to, I’ll make you,” Malfoy added with a happy smile.   
Hermione groaned. It was as if Malfoy was determined to make this situation worse than it was.   
“Malfoy, that isn’t helpful,” Hermione hissed under her breath.   
“You call him Malfoy?” Ron exclaimed before starting to laugh. “I knew he wasn’t your boyfriend. It’s pathetic really how far you will go to prove you don’t still love me.”   
“Oh, Merlin,” Hermione groaned. “Get out or I’ll have Harry come by and kick you out. Let’s face it, that would be embarrassing.”   
“Harry’s my best mate, he wouldn’t chuck me out of my wife’s house.”   
Hermione stood there furiously unable to form a sentence. Until her fury broke her out of her trance. “ARE YOU COMPLETELY DELUSIONAL?”   
“Listen, Weasel. You’re a real ponce,” Malfoy told him ice told tones. When Hermione looked up at him, she saw his grey eyes were hard as stone. “However, if you stay, the Aurors will be by to take you away. You are aware that breaking into someone’s home and refusing to leave is against the law, are you not? Don’t tell me you’re quite that thick.”   
“WHAT?” Ron exploded. “YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS! THIS RELATIONSHIP IS CLEARLY FAKE! HONESTLY, HERMIONE HOW CAN YOU STOOP SO – A DEATH EATER!”   
Hermione had had enough. “FOR THE LAST TIME HE IS NOT A DEATH EATER AND GET OUT OR WE WILL SUMMON THE AURORS!”   
Ron stopped shouting. He stared at her in amazement. It had been years since she had been this furious with him. Then he came toward her and his expression was unlike anything she had ever seen from him before.   
“You are nothing more than a fucking slag – a Death Eater’s slag.”   
She had no idea what happened, but something inside of her snapped. She made a fist and swung. It connected with his jaw and he fell back. Malfoy pulled her behind him and got his wand out, he aimed it at Ron.   
“Leave now,” Malfoy snarled.   
Ron clutched his jaw. He cursed and Disapparated.   
Hermione was shaking with rage and shock. What had she just done? The last person she had snapped at like that was weirdly enough the one in her corner now. Malfoy turned around. He tucked his wand back into his robes.   
He guided her into the nearest chair and filled her a cup of tea. She scarcely noticed how at home he made himself.   
“I don’t know – I just hit Ron,” she said looking up at him.   
“You did,” he smirked. “And it was incredible,” he closed his eyes and his smirk turned into a genuine smile. “Now there is a memory I would like to play over and over again.”   
“Oh, shove it in a Pensieve already.”   
Malfoy laughed. “The git had it coming.”   
“I suppose he did. Oh, Merlin,” she put her face in her hands. “How did it come to this?”   
“Weasley was always a jealous fool. I still recall the scene he caused at the Yule Ball.”   
Hermione looked up at him in surprise. She hadn’t thought anyone except her remembered. “You do?”   
“I do.”   
She saw the time on the clock. “I have to get to work.”   
“Right, I should get going,” Malfoy said awkwardly.   
“Thanks for coming with me.”   
“Thank you for saying I wasn’t a Death Eater.”   
“You aren’t and you saved our lives. So I don’t understand why Ron – oh never mind. I can’t waste any more time today worrying about Ron. He’s always disrupted my entire morning and yours.”   
“I don’t mind,” Malfoy shrugged.   
They both got to their feet. Hermione looked up at him and swallowed nervously. Suddenly, she was aware of how closely they were standing.   
“I’ll see you when you get back from the season?”  
“I’ll be around,” Malfoy said.   
Hermione eyed him sceptically. “Alright. Good luck on your next match.”   
Malfoy chuckled. “Do you even know who I am playing next?”  
“You know I don’t,” Hermione scowled.   
“Owl me if he bothers you again,” Draco said. “If he swings by again, you can stay at my house. I doubt he will find you there.”   
“Thanks,” Hermione said feeling completely flustered, but she was never going to take him up on that. “But it’s fine. He won’t be back.”   
“See you around, friend.”  
Malfoy tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. His touch was electric and sent a shiver through her. With a crack he Disapparated.   
XXX  
The next few weeks passed in a hazy blur for Hermione. She had been owling with Narcissa Malfoy, who was not only being cordial, but also very helpful regarding the wedding planning. If Hermione hadn’t known better, she would have thought she was happy for the two of them. Mrs Malfoy found a venue for them and Hermione tried not to think too much about what sort of absurd marriage she had agreed to.   
On more promising news, she was making real headway with the house elf liberation act. The article in the Quibbler was favourable and well-received. It was a story that had been picked up by the Prophet and there was buzz in the Ministry supporting it.Hermione was excited about the progress she was making. It almost made her forget all about her impending marriage to Malfoy and her even messier divorce from Ron.   
She was telling Andrew all about the progress Zabini was making in garnering support for the law in his department. Andrew barely listened as he buttered the scone. Since Skeeter was hovering looking for any sign of Hermione, they were still eating lunch in her office. Malfoy’s return to the Quidditch field was causing Skeeter to write about what a strain his career was on their relationship. And how perhaps Hermione just had a thing for Quidditch players? She had even tried to get an interview with Krum, but he had Apparated away from her. A thought, which never failed to make Hermione smile.   
“Uh-huh, raw raw house elf empowerment,” Andrew said with a mischievous look. “Now tell me about your upcoming wedding!”   
Hermione had told him all about it already, but Andrew was starved for details. “I don’t know. Mrs Malfoy is handling most of it.”  
“Now come on, tell me you are a little excited to marry a rich, handsome Quidditch player.”   
“After this season he isn’t a Quidditch player.”  
“But he will still be rich and handsome,” Andrew sighed dreamily. “You should be excited.”  
“I don’t know Andrew. It’s all so weird. I didn’t even think before I rushed over there all I wanted was to get away from Ron.”   
Andrew laughed and Hermione had to join in.   
“I can understand that. I would have loved to see Ron’s face when you punched him in the nose.”   
“It was terrible, Andrew. I can’t believe I did that.”   
“Oh, it served him right,” Andrew waved her concerns aside. “So tell me, do I get to help you choose your bridal gown?”   
“Of course, I was thinking you, Ginny and I could all go. I was thinking perhaps Pansy would help? She runs a boutique after all. Mrs Malfoy has booked a venue, a caterer and found music. Now all that is left is the flowers, the cake and gowns.”   
“And the bachelorette party!”   
“No!”  
“Yes!”  
“No!”   
“Yes! And I already talked to Ginny so it’s happening whether you like it or not.”   
“Merlin’s beard fine, but nothing too crazy. I am warning you,” Hermione pointed at him.   
“I promise. Just a few drinks and us girls.”  
Hermione raised a brow and laughed. “You’re not a girl Andrew.”  
“I know that, but I love girl’s night. Anyhow, is Ginny planning the bachelorette party?”  
Knowing what he was fishing for Hermione smiled. “Of course, you can plan it.”   
“Perfect, I’ll get right on it,” Andrew looked thoughtful for a moment before he remembered. “Oh, I forgot! This arrived for you.”   
He slid a manila envelope toward her. It was heavy and expensive. Hermione took a moment just to enjoy the stationary paper. It was rich and the elegantly scrawled handwriting on the front was beautiful. She opened the envelope and took out an invitation card with gold writing. 

Dearest Ms Granger, 

I think it is time we met for lunch. I thought perhaps afterwards we could choose a cake for the wedding? I hope three o’clock on Wednesday works. We can meet at the Hightower hotel in downtown London.   
I am looking forward to remaking your acquaintance and I am happy to hear my Draco has chosen such a brilliant match. Welcome to the family. 

Warmest regards,   
Narcissa Malfoy

“What does it say?” Andrew said peering curiously over the desk.   
Hermione handed the card to him. His eyes widened and by the time he was done reading, his mouth was open.   
“The Hightower is the nicest hotel in London. The prices are insane, Heath and I went there last year. It was amazing and completely outside of our budget, but it was worth every knut.”   
Hermione realized she would need a nice set of new robes to have lunch with Mrs Malfoy at the Hightower. She had been once before with Ron for their first anniversary. It was the single most expensive hotel in Wizarding Great Britain.   
XXX  
After work, Hermione used the floo network to travel to Hogsmeade. She arrived at the Three Broomsticks. Rosmerta, who was behind the counter waved and smiled.   
“Hermione Granger, well what brings you by?”   
“Just going to visit Pansy’s shop to do some shopping.”  
“Really?” Rosmerta raised her eyebrows.   
The fireplace turned green again and Ginny stepped out. She was wearing an expression just like Mrs Weasley.   
“Hermione Granger how dare you think I won’t come shopping with you? You’re meeting your new mother-in-law on Wednesday, this is big news!”   
Hermione gaped at her. “How did you know?”  
“Andrew told me when he stopped by to invite me to your bachelorette party. And why did I hear about your wedding from Andrew two weeks ago? You still haven’t said a word to me about it!”   
“Drinks on the house girls?” Rosmerta interrupted. She carried a tray over and ushered them to a table. “You know drinks are always on the house for war heroes. And congratulations on the wedding, ‘Mione.”   
“Thank you, Rosmerta.”  
Rosmerta left and Ginny crossed her arms. She glared at Hermione over the top of her Butterbeer.   
“How could you keep this from me?”  
“I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how.”   
“Oh ‘Mione,” Ginny sighed. “You should know by now I will always support your decisions. And I actually liked Malfoy when I saw him at the Ministry dinner.”  
“You did?”  
“I wouldn’t have talked to him, if I didn’t.”   
Hermione had a sip of her Butterbeer as she thought it over. She should have known, Ginny was never anything other than honest and direct. She also didn’t bother with people, she didn’t like.   
“You’re right. I’m sorry. The whole thing sort of got away with me. I was paired with Ron, who came by my house. It was a disaster.”   
“So I heard. Did you really punch Ron?”   
“Yes, but he was calling me a slag and calling Malfoy a Death Eater.”   
“That bloody fool. He had everything and he threw it all away,” Ginny shook her head. “But I thought you weren’t dating Malfoy?”  
“We weren’t. Of course, when my other option was Ron I had to rethink it.”  
“As long as he is good to my best friend that’s all I care about,” Ginny put her hand on hers.   
Hermione squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”  
“I just want you to have what Harry and I do.”  
“I know. Thank you and I don’t think I have a chance at that with Malfoy, but I do think we can be friends, which is more than I am with Ron at the moment.”  
“You know, I reckon Malfoy isn’t so bad,” Ginny said slowly. “I know he was a real prat when we went to school with him, but after he saved you, Ron and Harry during the war, he went into hiding with my parents and a few other Order members.”   
“I know that. I was there, Ginny,” Hermione stated exasperated.   
“Would you just listen?” Ginny huffed wearing an expression eerily similar to Mrs Weasley. “Anyway, mum and dad reckon he was a good boy, just misguided because of his parents. Mum said he was polite and dad told me, he was quite interested in Muggles. Of course, that might have been the result of boredom. And dad doesn’t talk about anything half so much as Muggles.”   
“That does make sense. He was fascinated by the oven in my house.”   
“So let’s find you the perfect outfit. You can’t go to the Hightower unless you’re dressed to the nines. Is Lucius going to be there?”   
“Oh dear,” Hermione gasped. “I haven’t even had a chance to consider him. Our first meeting is bound to be a disaster. And I hope not.”   
She recalled Lucius Malfoy as a cold, disapproving figure. One, who did not balk at murdering Ginny in their second year. She hated him with a fiery passion and up until now, she had not considered she might have to deal with him as a father-in-law.   
“I wish he was in Azkaban,” Ginny hissed. “That’s where scum like him belongs.”   
“Me too. If he is there, I am leaving. Narcissa saved Harry during the war, but Lucius? He’s a horrid old blood purist. Oh, dear, I really have gone from the world’s best in-laws to possibly the worst.”   
Hermione wondered how Malfoy felt about his parents. Based on their conversation the last time she had seen him, he was still close with his mother. But did that apply to his father as well?   
“Well on the upside, you and Malfoy aren’t in love so perhaps you won’t have to see them much,” Ginny said grimacing.   
They finished their drinks and went to Pansy’s shop. Her boutique was a quaint shop with big windows and white walls that made the space feel bright. The bell above the door chimed pleasantly when they entered. There were moving mannequins filled with the most exquisite robes.   
Pansy came out of the backroom levitating a stack of hat boxes.   
“Oh, Hermione!” she squealed when she saw them. She moved the boxes onto the till and rushed forward to give her a hug. One Hermione tentatively returned. Ginny looked at her over Pansy’s shoulder as if to say ‘when did you two become such good mates’? Hermione had no answer to that. Pansy broke away with a broad smile. “Congratulations on the wedding!”   
“Thank you!” Hermione felt herself blush.   
Pansy’s smile was so genuine, Hermione wondered what she knew or thought she knew. “This is terribly exciting! Are you here for you’re a wedding gown because I can tell you the wedding business has been booming thanks to the Ministry. the number of gowns, I’ve had to import,” her smile broadened. “It’s been wonderful. The whole event is more than enough to buy a starter home.”   
“Were you matched with anyone?” Hermione asked the question to deflect the attention from herself because the mention of wedding gowns was making her a little queasy.   
“Oh, no. I had my parents arrange a marriage to a French Lord,” Pansy said with a smile. “He’s quite the dashing figure and he has been eager to meet me for several months now. Hello Ginny, back for another fabulous outfit for a Hollyhead event?” she said a little breathlessly at the end of the statement.  
“No, today Pansy,” Ginny said with a hesitant smile. “Congratulations on the wedding.”   
“Yes, congratulations,” Hermione said. “What’s he like?”  
“Oh, I don’t know. We haven’t actually met,” Pansy dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “He’s handsome and rich, which I suppose is enough given the circumstances. Perhaps, we’ll move to France.”   
“I love France,” Hermione said with a dreamy sigh.   
“Anyway, what can I do for you today?”  
“I need an outfit for lunch at the Hightower. I’m meant to meet Malfoy’s mother for lunch.”   
Pansy raised an eyebrow. “Still calling him, Malfoy are you? I swear the two of you are absurd. I never understood why you didn’t get together during the war?”   
“Pansy, you know Harry said Hermione didn’t see anyone except for Ron during the whole war, even if it didn’t exactly turn out for the best,” Ginny said.   
“Wait – you are all friends?” Hermione said. “And you discuss Malfoy and I?”   
“Well more like my best clients,” Pansy told her. “I went to see Harry at work one day to apologize for trying to give him up at the Battle of Hogwarts. I was scared and foolish.”   
“He forgave her because Harry’s a gem,” Ginny said a little dreamily as she always got when she thought about her husband.   
“Anyway, Draco changed sides in the war and did what he thought was right. To be honest, I never suspected he had it in him. However, afterwards, he was different and I thought if Draco can change so can I.”   
“That’s really nice,” Hermione said recalling what a bully Pansy had been back in the day. It was good to see that some people really could change.   
“Anyway, follow me. I have some wonderful robes in from Milan.”   
Pansy seemed to have over twenty robes just for Hermione to try in the first hour. She served them champagne while Hermione tried them all on. Ginny and Pansy sat on a waiting area right outside of the dressing rooms. Together, they judged each outfit harshly.   
Hermione’s first robe was a snowy white with clean lines. Pansy surveyed it with pursed lips before shaking her head.   
“No, too severe.”   
Ginny agreed.   
Then there was an emerald green robe with silver lining. Hermione did not like it and neither did the others.   
“It looks like you purposely wore Slytherin colors,” Ginny said with a barely concealed look of distaste. “It won’t do.”   
“I agree. Get me out of it,” Hermione muttered as she began to undress.   
Green had never been a color she liked.   
Afterwards, followed a series of dresses that Hermione could not decide if she liked or not. Finally, she tried on the perfect set of robes. They were lovely and something she would wear again.   
She purchased the robes and made plans to include Pansy in her bridal gown shopping.   
XXX  
Hermione was dreading Wednesday afternoon, which naturally made the days fly by faster than ever. Two days should have gone by a little slower, but instead it was as if she blinked and Wednesday arrived.   
She was still having nightmares about the war and she used magic to cover the circles under her eyes like she did every day. It wouldn’t do to have anyone know she was suffering under the weight of her past horrors. It wasn’t as if anyone could help, they were all too busy with their own things. The last thing she wanted to be was a burden.   
Andrew was too busy planning her bachelorette party and wrapped up in Heath, who had sent flowers after Hermione sent a note, suggesting Andrew would like it. Ginny was back in full swing with Quidditch and being a mum. Harry was still in South America undercover, hunting for dark wizards. That left Hermione with only Mrs Weasley to turn to and she didn’t want to bother her. Not when she had divorced her son, punched him in the face and was now marrying another man.  
The Hightower was as lovely as she remembered. The entrance way was magnificent. There were marble columns and statues and surrounding the space. Paintings lined the walls, the inhabitants in them walked and talked and laughed. The ceiling was high and Hermione found herself caught up in the atmosphere as she approached the hotel’s restaurant.   
The restaurant was done in the same style as the reception area. There were tables covered by white linen tablecloths, decorated with flowers and candles.   
The restaurant’s host, smiled at Hermione. She approached tentatively. As much as she enjoyed the atmosphere, it had occurred to her once more that she was there to meet Narcissa Malfoy. She told the host about her reservations. As he checked the book, she scanned her outfit nervously.   
She was wearing soft pink robes. They flared out at the waist and had a cloak that fell to her feet. It was held together by a gold clasp at her throat. The robes had a sweetheart neckline. She had piled her curls up into a bun at the top of her head. It was lovely and Pansy said she had gotten it straight from Milan, but she was still a little worried what Narcissa would think.   
Which was silly. Hermione shook of her need for approval from middle aged women. Back at Hogwarts, she had required the praise of teachers and it used to make her happy. After, she had Obliviated her parents that need for approval started to be aimed towards one group in particular. Middle aged women, who could be substitutes for her mother. But Narcissa Malfoy was not Molly Weasley, she reminded herself.   
Mrs Malfoy was a purist, who would likely never approve of or like her. At best, she might tolerate her. Hermione however, had no patience for such foolish discrimination and wasn’t about to put up with it. So standing up straight, she followed the host to the table.   
The tables was private at the back of the restaurant. Narcissa Malfoy was already there seated in front of the window. She wore an elegant set of navy blue robes.  
When she saw her, Mrs Malfoy rose to her feet. As always, her face had an upturned expression as if she smelled something unpleasant. But on her lips, there was a sincere smile and there was warmth in her eyes. Hermione was taken aback and studied the woman, hesitantly.  
“Ms Granger, how lovely to finally meet you in person,” her smile widened.   
Hermione felt even more hesitance rise in her. Why had she done this without Malfoy? She should have declined meeting Narcissa until her son could join them.   
“And you,” Hermione finally said snapping out of it.  
“Call me Narcissa,” she offered as she gestured for Hermione to sit down.   
“Very well, then you must call me Hermione.”   
“How lovely. I cannot tell you how excited I was when Draco told me he was marrying you.”  
“You do remember I am Muggleborn, do you not?”  
Narcissa raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow and her smile turned tense. “If you wish to discuss the ugly details so soon then so be it,” she sighed with disapproval. Hermione didn’t much care if it was considered proper or not. “I know I have not been the most open-minded person in the past however, after the War I was forced to admit that perhaps our old ways of blood purity were a thing of the past. It took a long time for me to even entertain the idea, much less embrace it. However, when I saw how unhappy Draco was in his marriage to Daphne, one I had helped my husband arrange simply to keep our bloodline pure, I realized my mistake.”   
Hermione nodded and listened as closely as she could. It was strange to think that Narcissa had changed as much as her son. And the truth was, Hermione felt sure she was playing some angle. Narcissa wasn’t as Malfoy making it less likely she could change as much. It was just a hunch, but one Hermione was willing to dismiss. Maybe Narcissa had been the one to bribe the Ministry, but why then would she pretend to support the marriage now? Was it to ensure Malfoy never found out what she had done? Hermione didn’t think Malfoy was anymore pleased being matched with her ex than she was.  
“Are you trying to apologize?”  
Narcissa looked taken aback. After a moment, she spoke. “I suppose I am. It was not fair that I discounted you and others like you. After all, magic is such a rare and precious commodity, all those that have it should be treasured.”   
Hermione’s nostrils flared as she felt herself puff up with annoyance. That wasn’t a true apology, it was more of the same elitist crap the Malfoys had been toting for years. Narcissa might be willing to embrace a Muggleborn into the family, but she obviously still looked down her nose at Muggles. And Hermione told her as much.   
Narcissa’s mouth flattened into a thin line. “Very well, we do not have the same beliefs, but we do have some common ground,” Hermione looked a question at her. “My son.”   
“Right.”   
“I want what is best for him and he thinks that is this marriage so I will support him in every way I can. I hope we can be civil.”   
“I would like that assuming you can try to get passed your prejudice.”   
“I will and I hope in time you will come to see me as something other than the enemy.”  
“I haven’t looked at you as the enemy since you saved Harry’s life during the war,” Hermione said softly. “However, that does mean I like you or condone the choices you have made.”   
Narcissa smiled. “I can see why my son fancies you.”  
Hermione ignored that. Clearly, Narcissa had not received the full story from Malfoy. Sure, they had kissed on New Year’s Eve, maybe more and he had kissed her recently, but she didn’t think it meant all that much. She highly doubted Malfoy had genuine feelings for her. His desire to date her was likely little more than a typical reaction to forbidden fruit. She was a Muggleborn and that made her forbidden. As everyone knew, forbidden usually meant desirable.   
But she did not feel like squabbling with Narcissa about something so trivial and Malfoy was a friend. In fact, they were such good friends they would rather marry each other than their exes. If that wasn’t friendship and loyalty, Hermione had no idea what was.   
“Anyhow, you mentioned in one of your owls that you had booked a venue?”  
“Yes, a lovely Manor in Southern France.”   
“Narcissa, I did write that I wanted to keep the wedding simple, unless my memory fails me?”  
It did not, Hermione thought. She remembers explicitly stating she wanted a small ceremony.   
“Did you?” Narcissa feigned ignorance. “I must have missed that part. I’m going to require a guest list from you. I’ve allotted two hundred people, but I can expand it if it’s necessary.”  
“Two hundred people just for my side?” Hermione stared at her. “Is Malfoy on board with gigantic wedding?”   
“He told me he gave you free reign and that my assistance would be greatly appreciated. Besides dear, this is a Malfoy family event a big to-do is nothing less than expected.”   
Hermione groaned. Once again, it would seem her desire for a quiet life was to be thwarted.   
“Really, we need to downsize. Something small and private.”   
“Oh dear,” Narcissa sighed. “You sound like Draco. He hates the publicity of being a Seeker.”   
“Right,” Hermione nodded and studied the menu. She had suspected as much and Malfoy had said a few things that made her think he disliked publicity as much as she did even if he was more immune to it. “Anyway, I think we should cut the guest list down by half, at least.”   
“Since I am willing to compromise, I suppose we can downsize, but only by half,” Narcissa added with a steely eyed look. “Any particular date?”  
“No, I don’t think so,” Hermione said trying to think if she had any important things coming up at work in the next year. Her house elf project had not been scheduled for court hearing yet so she could schedule that around the wedding. Weddings would no doubt be creating a lot of chaos for the Ministry regarding their employees.   
“Excellent, I was thinking New Year’s Eve?”   
Hermione resisted the urge to complain. It was as good a day as any. “Fantastic. I presume you have already booked the Manor for that time?”  
“I have,” Narcissa confirmed with a regal nod. “But I have a friend in management, he agreed to give us first choice of any date if you and Draco didn’t like the day.”   
“I think it should work for Malfoy as well. He did say he had no interest in planning the ceremony so I’m sure he will be fine with whatever we decide.”   
The rest of lunch passed while they made plans. Narcissa was surprisingly organized even by Hermione’s standards. It was a relief to Hermione that Narcissa wanted to handle most of the wedding planning because she honestly had little interest in it. She had already done it once before when she married Ron and the divorce was so fresh in her mind, she didn’t think she could enjoy planning another one. Especially, not when she was not marrying for love. But she had done that once before and who knew? Perhaps it would turn out better.   
After a truly delicious lunch, they went cake tasting. They settled on a few favorites and decided to return and choose when they had more details regarding the wedding. Mainly, because Hermione felt she could settle on a flavour, but not a design until she had seen the venue, the flowers and the general color scheme.   
By the time Hermione arrived at home, she had surprisingly had fun with Narcissa. She wasn’t sure, who was more surprised by that, her or Narcissa.  
She turned on the radio and hummed along as she dumped a can of cat food in Crookshank’s dish. He meowed gratefully at her and she scratched him behind the ears.   
“You’re a good kitty.”   
Crookshanks stared up at her and she could have sworn she understood her. She regretted never asking Sirius more about how he communicated with animals as an Animagus. She made a mental note to do some research.  
She noticed a letter on her kitchen table. It was in a lovely, heavy cream envelope. The handwriting on it was neat and clear. She didn’t recognize it, but the name on the envelope read Malfoy.   
When she opened it up, she saw it was two tickets to his next Quidditch match. He had also included a handwritten invitation. 

Granger,   
I know you’re not a fan of Quidditch, but I think this is a match you’ll want to see. Bring a guest if you like. I can promise excitement and victory.   
\- Malfoy 

Having a closer look at the tickets revealed why and it actually made her laugh. Malfoy’s team was playing Ron’s. Small wonder, he had invited her to this particular match. She couldn’t decide if it was worth risking another run in with Ron especially one so public, but on the off chance Malfoy’s team did win, it would be worth the trip to see Ron’s face.   
Hermione decided she would ask Harry if he would go with her. If he was there, Ron was bound to show some restraint.  
Hermione made herself a cup of tea and sat down in the living room. She could still hear the radio, which was playing the wizarding band ‘Whomping Wills’. She hadn’t heard of them before, but lately she felt like they were all that was on the radio. The best place in the house was a window seat, which let her look out over the backyard. Sometimes, she missed having a telly, but she had taken out all of the Muggle items after the war except for the kitchen appliances. Technically, by wizarding law items such as tellies were outlawed and the Ministry frequently performed raids like the ones Mr Weasley lead.   
Darkness had already begun to fall over her backyard. It didn’t matter. In her mind’s eye she could still see the big oak tree with and the roses her mother had so carefully cultivated, which Hermione only grew because she knew her mother would want her to.   
Not for the first time, she missed her parents with an ache that was so painful, she thought she would never breathe again. Then she closed her eyes and pictured them as she remembered them that day. She had done the right thing, the only thing she could. If she hadn’t they would have been tortured and killed just to spite her. Malfoy had even told her that was the plan. Even if he tried to stop it, would he have been successful? She admitted even if she could go back in time with a Timeturner, she would have done the exact same thing.   
She had looked in on her parents recently, she always did every couple of years. They were happy, enjoying life in Australia. It was difficult not to reverse the memory spells on them. She knew it was possible in theory, but she hadn’t dared try it. As usual, she had done her reading and the effects of Obliviate had only been redone successfully once. All other attempts had simply turned the patient’s brain to mush. Hermione was not about to take that chance with her parents.   
As she sipped her tea, eventually her mind moved on to other topics. Other memories. 

Hermione, Harry and Ron had spent a couple of extra days in the protected house Mr and Mrs Weasley were staying in. There were a few other Order Members also hiding there, but they were busy trying to gather intelligence about Voldemort and his followers to socialise much. Hermione and Harry had sat down with Malfoy after dinner to talk about what he knew. It hadn’t been much. After his failed attempt to kill Dumbledore, he wasn’t exactly a high standing Death Eater. He did have one important piece of information regarding Horcruxes however, Nagini rarely left Voldemort’s side and as soon as there was trouble, she would return to him. They had already assumed it, but it was good to have it confirmed.   
After their conversation, they all drifted apart. Hermione went to a private part of the house. It was the library and there was rarely anyone there. She wrote down everything she knew about the other Horcrux, the one that was supposedly at Hogwarts. But she was tired and the list wasn’t exactly filling up fast.   
She didn’t even hear him until he stood in the doorway. Malfoy, he looked gaunt and troubled. Worse than he had when she left him a few minutes ago.  
“I’m sorry. It’s not – I – I –”  
“You made the right choice in the end,” Hermione said with a soft smile.   
Malfoy looked as if something inside of him broke. He nodded and left in a hurry. 

The memory was depressing so Hermione shook it off. But it occurred to her at the moment she hadn’t realized how much Malfoy was in the process of changing. Same as how Ron changed after the war. They had both for better or worse become entirely different people. Which was why it didn’t make sense to her that she had been matched with Ron.   
It had been bothering her for weeks. But with everything at work, she had pushed it to the back of her mind. Yet the thought resurfaced now. She would have thought Narcissa was her most likely suspect, but after today, she wasn’t so certain. She seemed genuinely invested in the wedding.   
Her second-best suspect was Ron. She supposed her best chance to discover if he was guilty, it was time to speak with Kingsley.   
XXX  
Draco flew better than he ever had that night at practice. It was motivated by his desire to crush the Weasel at the next match. It would give him a lot of joy just because he hated Weasley at school, but the idea that he might get to do in front of Granger, well it was unbearably sweet.   
Weasley had acted like a true prat and he had marched into Granger’s kitchen as if she should be overjoyed to welcome that piece of human rubbish back into her life. Little would give him more satisfaction than to prove he was the better man.   
When he returned home after practice, he was surprised to find his mother in the kitchen. She was right at home with Mapsy the house elf. They were chatting and Draco remembered that Mapsy had been in his mother’s service for years. She was the only house elf Narcissa had ever respected. It was from Narcissa and Lucius, Draco had learned disregard for those beneath him. But Mr and Mrs Weasley had shown him another way. It was the way, Dumbledore had tried to show him. But he had been too young and scared to listen. It wasn’t until he became even more frightened of what would happen if Voldemort remained in power, then he was finally able to act.   
“Mother, what brings you by?”  
“Honestly, Draco you live in this shack?” Narcissa said surveying the house with a disgusted expression.   
“It’s not a shack mother. It used to be a church.”   
“A Muggle house of worship, dear me,” she shook her head.   
“Why are you here?”  
“I had tea and went cake tasting with your fiancée today.”   
“Oh dear,” Draco poured himself a glass of Firewhiskey, his mother declined a glass. “Are you both in one piece?”  
“Yes,” Narcissa said her eyes looked at him coldly. “She wanted to downsize the wedding.”  
“Why? How big is it now?”  
“Two hundred guests on each side.”  
Four hundred people at the wedding? He felt quite certain neither he nor Granger knew that many people.   
“I agree with her.”   
“Draco.”   
“Mother, why are you here? And why did you arrange to have me matched with Daphne?”  
“Pardon? I did no such thing.”   
“Then who the hell did?”   
“I don’t know,” her brows furrowed in consternation. “I can’t imagine, who would think that was a good idea.”   
“You don’t suppose father…?” he ventured afraid to even contemplate it.   
Until recently, he had considered Lucius a husk of his former self. He had not done more than spew bigoted speech and skulk around Malfoy Manor since he narrowly avoided Azkaban for the second time in his life.   
“No, I don’t see how he could have learned of my plans. I don’t tell Lucius much these days. Losing the war and your betrayal, well it broke him.”   
That still made him feel guilty. Once upon a time, he had worshipped his father. The idea that his change of allegiance had helped break his father. It was not his intent. All he wanted was to live in a world that did not make him feel as if he was dead. Where people like Granger weren’t hunted and tortured simply for how they were born.   
It always came back to Granger. It took seeing her trapped in his family home for him to act. He closed his eyes and sighed.  
“But is it possible?”   
“I suppose in theory. He is a conniving man you’re father, but there is no way he should have known what I was plotting.”  
“What did you Ministry connections say?”   
“That they were not able to falsify the results.”   
“Curious,” Draco said downing half the glass. The Firewhisky burned on its way down. “I would imagine Granger is going to look into it and if something happened, she will find out.”   
“I have no doubt. She’s a very capable young woman. I have to say, she has impressed me.”   
“Why? Because she’s not intimidated by you?”   
“Yes, well that’s no small feat.”   
Draco smirked. He knew his mother was frequently underestimated by those that met her. They assumed she was simply his father’s wife, beautiful and frivolous. But those that had crossed her discovered she was far more dangerous and competent than her husband. Since Lucius began to deteriorate after the war, this had become more and more evident to those around her.   
“I suppose we should find out, who tampered with the casting because it’s no coincidence both Granger and I were paired with our exes.”   
“Oh?” Narcissa smiled. “Yet she chose you. How lovely.”   
“Mother.”   
“Come now, I’ve known you fancied her for years.”   
She had hinted at this in the past and it would never be something he wished to discuss with her. “Mother, leave it alone.”   
“Very well. But you are right, we’d best uncover the truth before your Muggleborn does. If she finds out I tried to interfere, she might take it out on you. Perhaps I can bribe some Ministry employees into silence.”   
“Yes, it’s better if she hears it from me.”   
“After you are married,” Narcissa specified in no uncertain terms.   
Draco understood why she suggested it. Granger would want nothing to do with him if she found out. However, the idea of lying to Granger did not sit right with him. He was aware she hated bullies and he felt certain liars fell into the same category.   
After his mother left, Draco went to his potions lab. He found a bottle of Draft of Remembrance. In his spare time, he brewed potions. He had all of the most common ones in stock, including several of the more exotic ones.   
If he was going to marry Granger, he might as well know what happened in Paris. If nothing had happened, it might make her less leery of him. He could understand, she had never been one to sleep around as far as he knew. She certainly, never seemed to pay much attention to the other boys at Hogwarts. As much as it had pained him to watch her with Krum, he knew one of the reasons they had gone out was because Granger was the only girl at school, who didn’t care that he was a Quidditch player.   
He threw back the draft and was almost immediately assaulted with memories from that forgotten night. 

Draco landed on the bed and pulled Granger down on top of him. They were kissing, hot, sloppy drunken kisses. Ones that made his head spin. They broke apart and got comfortable on the bed.   
He lay on his side, just studying Granger. It was hard to believe that after all this time they were here. He was awestruck. Her eyes closed and she fell asleep. He smiled when he heard her give a soft snore. She was still in a state of half-dressed and he himself was shirtless.   
Deciding the evening had gone better than he had expected, he wrapped them both in in the blanket. Granger sighed and snuggled closer in her sleep. He stroked her hair and watched her sleep before he too fell asleep. The last thing he remembered before he passed out was how happy he was.


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione was stressed out of her mind as she packed to go to Malfoy’s Quidditch match. She knew it shouldn’t stress her out this much. It was only a Quidditch match and she had been to plenty of those, it wasn’t as if she didn’t know what to wear or where to go, but Ron was going to be there.   
The Chudley Canons were according to Harry going to be staying in the same town as Malfoy and his team. They were going to be there for a few days before the match and a few days after. Same as Hermione because she had let Harry and Ginny talk her into a mini-holiday. Mr and Mrs Weasley were going to watch the children and she should have been excited except all she felt was nerves.   
Would Ron go mental when he saw her again?  
What would things be like between her and Malfoy? They hadn’t actually seen each other or talked since she had proposed. It wasn’t something she had given a lot of thought to and that alone was unlike her. Ron had made her and angry her kneejerk reaction had been to do the thing that would anger him most. Now, she had to deal with the consequences of it.   
She finished packing, feeling harried. Then Ginny and Harry Apparated into her living room the second she was done. She came out with her suitcase, which she had enchanted to make lighter. Ginny was grinning from ear to ear and Harry’s green eyes sparkled with excitement.   
“Are you ready for a long weekend in Northern Ireland?” Harry asked.  
“So excited,” Hermione said. Malfoy had offered to let them all stay at his flat.  
“Are the nerves due to Ron or Malfoy?” Ginny said with a sly smile.   
Hermione glowered at her. “Both of them, but mostly Ron. He’s not acting like himself.”   
“He’s been off his nut for months,” Harry agreed. “But the three of us are going to have fun regardless of the chaos that is your love life, ‘Mione.”   
“Makes you miss Krum, yeah?” Ginny winked at her.   
Hermione blushed and covered that with a bout of bossiness. “Let’s go.”   
Firmly, she picked up her suitcase and Disapparated.   
She arrived in a cheery if bare living room. There was a lit fire, but no knick-knacks or photographs to make it homey. It was stylishly decorated and Malfoy was on the couch with a book. He looked up when she arrived.   
Before she could say anything Ginny and Harry arrived with two cracks, only seconds apart. They greeted Malfoy cheerily, while Hermione hovered behind them feeling out of place.   
“Your room is on the other end of the flat,” Malfoy said and told them exactly where to find it. When they left, he turned to her. “Your room is this way.”   
Hermione followed him, still not convinced it was a good idea. Her first instinct had been to stay at home, but then Harry had been so enthusiastic and Ginny used her connections to get a ticket. Then for some reason Harry and Malfoy were owling and next thing she knew, they had been invited to stay at Malfoy’s flat, which was the part that bothered her the most.   
“Thanks for having us.”   
“It’s not a problem. Might as well get to know each other.”   
“Might as well,” she agreed realizing it was the most mature approach. And they had formed a friendship of sorts.   
“You know if someone had told me years ago if I was going to have Potter and the girl Weasley as house guests, I would have taken them to St Mungo’s.”   
“Things change.”   
Malfoy led her down the hallway to a lovely room.   
“It’s right across the hallway from mine. Not a lot of space here.”   
“Your flat is lovely,” Hermione said genuinely meaning it. Like his home it was brighter and lighter than anything she could have imagined him living in. When she thought of Malfoy’s home, dank dungeon were the words she most associated with him.   
“It’s just where I stay during the season,” he shrugged. He looked around as if he hadn’t actually properly looked at the flat in years or ever, and perhaps he hadn’t. “Reckon I’ll sell it once I return to the Ministry full-time.”   
“Suppose so,” she echoed. It was strange to think the decisions they made about their careers affected each other. “We’ll have to find out where we’ll live.”  
Malfoy looked at her. He appeared thoughtful. “I’d rather not sell my home, I’ve grown rather attached, but I’m certain you feel the same way about your childhood home.”   
“I do actually. We can work it out later,” Hermione said with a smile she hoped was confident.   
The truth was, Hermione was a lot more comfortable with books and facts even life or death situations than she was with romantic relationships. Until she had arrived at Hogwarts, she’d never had friends. Not until Neville, then Harry and Ron. Back at school, she had been too bossy, too much of a know-it-all.   
A problem that still haunted her to this day. It was not easy for her to make new friends. Most of the people she met wanted to be her friend or more for the same reasons as Tom. Others like Andrew didn’t care about things like reputation or fame. Most of the people she associated with were friends from her Hogwarts days. Oddly enough, most of the new people in her life were Slytherins. Her reputation as a war heroine didn’t appear to matter to them. Maybe because they were trying to live down their own pasts so they didn’t put much stock in those things.   
“We have time,” he agreed with a lazy smile. “What do you want to do tonight?”  
“I don’t know. You know the area better than me. What is there to do here?”   
“There’s the local pub?”   
Hermione laughed. “There’s always a pub. There must be more to do.”   
“There’s a bookshop,” he suggested with a mischievous look that made her smile and shake her head.   
“I do have other interests, you know.”   
“You do? What are they?”   
“Equal rights for all magical creatures with human-like intelligence.”   
Malfoy snorted. “That’s not a hobby, Granger that’s a cause.”   
“Oh? And what makes you such an expert? What are your hobbies?” Hermione crossed her arms, huffed and waited for him to answer with a haughty expression.   
“I fly.”   
“That’s also your job.”   
“I brew potions.”  
“Anything else?”   
“I read, I travel.”   
“Travel is a hobby now?”   
His lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk. “If you don’t think travel is a hobby, you’ve been doing it wrong all these years.”   
“Oh, I know! I knit!” Hermione said feeling a sense of satisfaction she had found another hobby. It would be sad to think she only had the one.   
“Do you really?” he looked fascinated. “Using magic or the Muggle way?”   
“The Muggle way if I have time. It’s more relaxing to actually have it between your hands.”  
Realizing what she had said a split-second too late, she turned a bright shade of red. It mightn’t have been so bad except Malfoy was suddenly smirking in a worse way than before. His gaze was heated and she felt a spark in her lower stomach.   
“Is it now?”  
“Oh, shut up.”   
He chuckled. “So the pub then? Have you played darts before?”  
“Of course, I have,” she said with a glower.   
An hour later and they were ready to go. The only hiccup was when Hermione had to help Malfoy picked out a sweater that didn’t look as if it belonged in the 80’s. Dressing as a Muggle wasn’t his strong suit. But she helped him pick out a pair of jeans and a black knit sweater that made his hair look even paler than usual. She didn’t tell him, but the look suited him. He was fuller in the face now than he had been at school and it only emphasised the sharp angles of his face.   
Hermione had decided to wear a pair of light blue denims that were bootcut. She wore a pair of black, shiny pumps and a white sheer top. She had styled her hair in bigger ringlets than usual.   
“Bushy hair! I love it!” Harry exclaimed with a twinkle in his eye when he saw her.   
“Harry!” Ginny scolded.   
“No, really I like it!” Harry said wrapping an arm around his wife.   
“Thank you,” Hermione said and fluffed her hair with her fingers.   
Malfoy didn’t say anything, but he winked at her when the others weren’t looking. She blushed again.  
The pub was a ten minute walk into town. The air was starting to warm up, but it was still damp and cold. Hermione was sure by the time they got there, her hair was bushy again. All of her smooth curls were probably dissolved into their usual mess, but she decided not to care for tonight and next time, she would remember to use Stay-Long, the wizarding world’s version of hairspray.   
The pub was milling with people. There were those that she could see by the way they were dressed were plainly Muggles. But the majority of the guests were clearly wizards. There were two women, who were wearing men’s suits. She could tell because they were baggy and didn’t fit right. These were not tailored, stylish pantsuit many Muggle women wore. No, these had been found in the men’s department.   
That sight paled in comparison to one man, who was clearly wearing a long white nightgown tucked into a pair of trousers. The sight made her giggle and Harry laughed into the crook of his arm so the wizard wouldn’t see. Ginny grinned broadly. Malfoy looked a little confused, but even he seemed to notice something wasn’t right about the man’s outfit.   
The second someone spotted them, cheers greeted Harry and a round of drinks was immediately bought for their group by two older wizards, who threw a whole pile of cash at the bartender.   
“You sort it out. I can’t understand your Mug- I mean British money.”   
The bartender looked at him skeptically. “You sound British, mate.”   
“Me?” he pointed to himself. “No, no, I’m French. My uhm – just get them their drinks would yah? That’s a good lad,” he said when the bartender starting drafting their pints.   
The bartender hurried over with their four beers. They all accepted and thanked him. Then they thanked the two wizards, who beamed and waved.   
Ginny and Harry automatically migrated toward a table filled with Chudley players. Hermione recognized them and she did not feel like approaching them. Instead, she let Malfoy guide her to a table with a couple of players from his team.   
“Granger, this is Scott and Harrison.”   
“Hello,” she smiled and shook hands with them.   
“Well if it isn’t the war heroine herself,” Scott said. He was an Irish wizard with a heavy brogue and bright blue eyes. His hair was a sandy blonde and he couldn’t have been more than eighteen. “I’m the Keeper.”   
“Right.”   
“Same as your ex, love,” Harrison nudged Malfoy. “See you’ve come to your senses.”   
Hermione tensed. This was precisely why she had been hesitant to come here. She didn’t want to talk about Ron or listen to people compare him to Malfoy. She was still confused about the changes to their personalities.   
“Shut it, Harrison,” Malfoy drawled.  
Harrison and Scott laughed. They grabbed Malfoy and pulled him into their booth. Scott hopped up and bowed deeply to Hermione. He waved with his arm in a dramatic flourish.   
“After you, my lady.”   
“Alright.”   
Hermione sat down next to Malfoy and drank her pint. She was content to listen to the boys talk about Quidditch and their lives. It was nice to sit and watch the people in the pub. It felt normal.   
Sometimes when she was out, she felt like she was on display. If there weren’t people waiting to thank her for what she had done during the war or express their admiration for her work, she had people wanting to ask her about Ron or Harry. It could be exhausting when all she was trying to do was have a normal social life. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate people’s support, she did, but it was like when the wizarding world thought she was dating Malfoy on New Year’s Eve, she had received hundred of letters from strangers. All with an opinion on her love life.   
For a while, she watched two witches play darts. They were actually quite good, but they got worse the more they drank. Eventually, they were distracted by two warlocks, from the Chudley Canons no less. Hermione was surprised Ron wasn’t here. From what she had heard about his love life, he should be here trying to meet another eligible witch. Not to say, she wasn’t relieved he was absent.  
“Care for a round?” Malfoy suggested nodding towards the abandoned darts board.   
“Certainly. Would you like to join us?” she asked Harrison and Scott.   
They both shook their heads. “No way!”   
“We’ve had enough of Draco kicking our arses at that.”   
“He’s too good.”   
“Unbeatable,” Harrison said agreeing with Scott.   
Hermione laughed and got up. She walked over to the darts board with Malfoy right behind her. When they got there, she smiled at him and wondered if he knew, her parents had made her take archery lessons as a child. They knew she loved to read and it was a passion they encouraged, but they wanted to make sure she got some exercise too. It had been the only sport, they could convince her to try. It had actually been fun and she suspected darts was very much the same.   
“Are you as good as they say?”  
Malfoy smirked. “I’m a fair shot.”  
Malfoy took the darts from the board and put them down on the table near their mugs of beer. He handed her one, with the point aimed at himself.   
“Ladies first,” Malfoy said.   
Hermione accepted the dart and took a moment to adjust to its weight. She felt it in her palm and took aim. The dart soared through the air and hit bulls eye.   
“You didn’t mention you were brilliant at this as well.”   
A heavy hand landed on her shoulder and when she looked back at him, he was smiling at her. It wasn’t what she had expected. She had seen a more competitive side of him when they were at school together and he had certainly been a sore loser. Maybe it was another trait he had outgrown?   
But when it was Malfoy’s turn, she saw that wasn’t the case. He was trying his best to beat her. They played a few rounds. Hermione won all of them, but Malfoy wasn’t far behind.   
With each round, they had grown more competitive, trading insults and jabs. By the time it was over, Hermione was grinning and she threw her arms up.   
“I won!”   
Harrison and Scott, who had been watching from their booth, clapped and cheered. Scott whistled.   
“She did it! We have a new champion!” he announced loudly. “Bartender, a round for the whole bar on me!”   
The bar clapped and cheered then too. The bartender smiled and waved, indicating he would get on it.   
“What are we celebrating?” Harry asked appearing with Ginny, hanging onto his arm.   
“We have a new darts champion and it’s not Draco!” Harrison whooped.   
Hermione laughed with the others.   
“Amazing! Bloody brilliant!” Ginny squealed. “Is there anything you can’t do?”  
“Not our Hermione,” Harry said and winked at her.   
Malfoy smiled and put his arm around her shoulder. It was a familiar gesture and she was surprised by how much she enjoyed it. He was warm and she leaned into him.   
“In all seriousness, is there anything you can’t do?” he asked in a whisper.   
His lips brushed the shell of her ear and an electric tingle shot through her. She blushed and turned to face him. Belatedly, she realized they were close enough to kiss so she turned more toward his shoulder.   
“I’m a rubbish cook.”   
“Really?” his thumb stroked circles on her shoulder.   
“Really,” she confirmed.   
Deciding to hell with it, she put her arm around his waist.   
“What about you? Anything you’re not good at?”  
“Bowling.”   
“Bowling?” Hermione felt certain he must be pulling her leg. She couldn’t picture Malfoy bowling. He was too dignified for that. Rented shoes, a crowded alley, balls that were covered with germs from countless customers.   
“Yes, bowling. I met this Muggle girl right out of Hogwarts.”   
“How did you meet a Muggle? I can’t imagine you ever go anywhere with a lot of Muggles.”   
“That’s true enough. I certainly didn’t growing up. However, I was tired of the whispers and the judgements in the wizarding world and I know I’ll never live those down and that’s fair,” he shrugged, but there was a tension to his jawline that made Hermione think he wished he could change the past. “So I wandered into the town near Malfoy Manor. I just wanted to be invisible. I met this Muggle girl, she invited me out with some friends.”   
“You went on a date with a Muggle?” she gaped at him. “That’s – that’s just wow.”   
A few months ago and she wouldn’t have believed him, but now she did.  
“Yes,” he closed his eyes and shook his head as if he was trying to push aside the urge to laugh. “And she took me bowling. I was atrocious. I don’t think I knocked down more than three pins during the whole game. Needless to say, I didn’t see her again.”   
Hermione giggled. “Oh Merlin, the mental image of you in rented shoes,” she had to cover her mouth with her hand. “It’s absolutely brilliant.”   
“To the grave, Granger,” he warned her, but the corners of his mouth twitched like he wanted to laugh with her.   
“I won’t tell anyone,” she promised still shaking with laughter.   
After that, they played a few more rounds of darts with the others. Harry and Ginny were one team, Scott and Harrison the second and two of them. Needless to say, Hermione and Malfoy were in their third winning round when the game took on a rather dangerous turn that Hermione did not care for at all.   
“Oy Malfoy,” Harry said and his smile revealed how drunk he was. “Do you remember how back at Hogwarts, we thought nothing could kill me except for Voldemort.”   
“Harry, no!” Hermione said knowing she was about to be ignored.   
Ginny looked resigned and went to the bar to get herself another drink. Hermione knew she would be no help. Having grown up with Fred and George, Ginny had an amazing knack for ignoring trouble and simply carrying on with her day. Other times when she felt like it, she joined in.   
“Are you challenging me to another absurd near death experience, Potter?”  
“Scared, Malfoy?”  
“Stop it both of you right now! Harry we never had any evidence to indicate Voldemort was the only one that could kill you and Malfoy even if that is true, it doesn’t cover you as well!” Hermione exclaimed. “Honestly, you are not teenagers anymore!”   
Just as before at Hogwarts, they both ignored her.   
“What did you have in mind?” Malfoy asked.   
Harry went and stood in front of the dart board. “Just hit the bulls eye.”   
“Harry no!” Hermione exclaimed.   
“You’re on,” Malfoy said with a smirk.   
He picked up a dart and threw it. Hermione couldn’t look, she turned away.   
“You can look,” Scott told her and patted her shoulder.   
She sighed in relief when she saw the dart had landed just above Harry’s head.   
“If we have to go to St Mungos tonight, I am going to kill you both,” Hermione muttered.   
Malfoy ruffled her hair. Then he traded places with Harry. This made Hermione particularly ill and stressed as she knew Harry was not nearly as good a shot as Malfoy.   
“Stop it! Both of you! Right this instant!” she cried.   
Harry ignored her and aimed the dart. At the last second, she covered her face with her hands. She only looked up when there was a hand mussing up her hair.   
“I’m alright, Granger.”  
She sighed in relief upon hearing Malfoy’s lazy drawl. She looked up and saw he was grinning at her.   
“This is the height of childishness and if you two are going to act like fools, I am going to go home, right this minute.”   
“Alright, calm yourself. Your hair is bushy enough without you frizzing it up with stress.”   
She scowled at him. He tried to ruffle her hand again, but this time she slapped it away. He chuckled, but at least their foolish game had ended so she could breathe easily.   
Two witches joined them. They introduced themselves to everyone. They were pretty and if Hermione had to guess, they were just out of Hogwarts. They introduced themselves as Lizzy and Harriet.   
Harriet had black hair and eyes. Her hair was braided in corn rows and she was obviously flirting with Malfoy. Hermione was both relieved to know there was at least someone in the wizarding world that didn’t believe she was dating Malfoy and irritated that she was flirting so blatantly with Malfoy.   
Malfoy didn’t seem to notice or really care. He kept his eyes on the crowd and was indifferent. Hermione felt it was unfair to him in a way. He had wanted to try for a real relationship with her and she had turned him down. Yet now, he wasn’t free to pursue anyone else. She knew he was getting a raw deal. Just because she wasn’t ready to start dating after her divorce, didn’t mean he wasn’t.   
“So do you live around here?” Harriet asked with a flirtatious smile.   
“No,” Malfoy replied having a sip of his beer.  
Hermione ignored the two of them. Instead, she found herself thinking about the idiotic stunts Harry and Malfoy had pulled back at Hogwarts in their sixth year. There hadn’t been much fun that year, the mood was heavy and tense yet there was the occasional memory she could hold onto where they were still just ordinary teenagers.  
She could still recall that day on top of the Astronomy tower when she had caught them trying to race down it with shopping carts. Ron had egged them on and Harry was certain nothing short of Voldemort could kill him. Somehow, Malfoy had gotten involved. He had been spying on them and decided if Harry could do it, then he most definitely could.   
The whole thing had ended with Hermione yelling at them and threatening to tell Professor McGonagall, which she felt certain was the only reason they were still alive.   
Then there was the time she had caught them trying to see, who could make it through the Whomping Willow first without magic. That had been absurd and they had both ended up scratched and lucky to avoid time in the hospital wing. Then there was the time, they tried to see, who could stay in the lake the longest in the middle of November. That time, Hermione had actually got Professor McGonagall, which meant the end of their stupid game.   
Hermione spotted Andrew and Heath as they entered the pub. Andrew had told her, Heath never missed a Quidditch match so she knew they would be out sometime this weekend and they had plans to meet tomorrow, but the couple hadn’t been sure if they would make it tonight. She was happy they had.   
A little drunk and with a big smile, she shoved her way through the throng in the pub to greet them.   
“Andrew!” she exclaimed and threw her arms around his neck. He hugged her back and swung her around.   
“’Mione, you look like you’re having fun,” he purred and winked.   
She giggled and whispered, “I am.”   
“Hullo Hermione,” Heath said with a smile, but he made no move to hug her.   
That didn’t surprise her. He was more serious than his boyfriend. He was tall and broad. Where Andrew was shorter and skinnier. He wore his hair in dreadlocks and his eyes were dark. He was always dressed in black and white. Just like now, he wore a Muggle suit in black and white without the tie. His hair was artfully mussed. Andrew on the other hand, was wearing blue jeans and a blue T-shirt with a blue scarf with sequins around his neck. When he wasn’t at the Ministry, he wore a diamond nose piercing.   
“Hi, I’m so happy you made it tonight. Come on, we’re playing darts.”   
“Hold on,” Andrew grabbed her wrist. “Not before you check out this article in the latest Witch Weekly.”   
“Andrew you know I don’t read that rubbish.”   
“And as well you shouldn’t,” Heath agreed. “It’s all gossip, worse than the Prophet even.”  
“No, really you need to see this.”   
“Andrew, no. She’s having fun.”   
Now Hermione was starting to get a bad feeling. It was like ice had settled in the bottom of her stomach. Just when she was starting to think this weekend might actually be minimal on drama.   
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ginny had dragged Harry over to Malfoy and Harriet. She was firmly placing Harry between the two of them. Ginny said something to Malfoy and he laughed.   
“Show me,” she said turning back to Andrew and Heath.   
Malfoy was on her way over, she noticed. At the same time, Andrew pulled out the magazine from his back pocket. It had been sticking up and she wondered how she could have missed it before realizing she was a little drunk and too busy enjoying herself. Andrew opened it to the right page.   
Immediately a portrait photograph of Ron jumped out at her. It was moving, he wasn’t smiling, he looked sad and mostly studied his shoes. Wondering what her ex was up to now, she snatched the magazine from him and started reading the article. She hardly noticed when Malfoy came up behind her. 

Ronald Bilius Weasley has a double-claim to fame. War hero and Keeper for the Chudley Canons, he is often credited with bringing the team to its current glory. There is however, in one area that Ron is not achieving. His love life.   
Recently divorced, he misses his ex wife.   
“It’s just not the same with Hermione. I know I made mistakes, but I have tried to make things right. But she’s just not having it.”   
“And why not?” the reporter prodded.   
“Because she’s under the spell of that Death Eater. The Ministry matched us and I know that means we are meant to be together. I’ve always known that.”   
“How do you mean?”   
“I think Malfoy has her under the Imperius Curse. There’s no other explanation, but Hermione is strong. I know she can fight it off and when she does, I’ll be right here.”   
“Have you tried appealing to the Ministry for help?”  
“Of course, I have, but the Aurors won’t do anything and neither will The Ordinary Magical Law Enforcement. They think he’s changed, but I know better. I remember him at school. He used to bully Hermione. Call her a Mudblood and other foul names, and now they’re together? It doesn’t make any sense.” 

Shocked, disgusted and enraged Hermione folded up the magazine and gave it back to Andrew.   
“Take it, I can’t read another word of that trash.”   
“Imperius Curse?” Malfoy whispered, he sounded shocked. “And Granger I’m sorry you know –”  
“You don’t need to apologize,” Hermione said straightening up. “You did that years ago and you meant it. I know you did or you would have done it again. And really, you bullied almost everyone.”   
“That’s not much of an excuse. And he’s right, I was horrid to you. I was to everyone.”   
She turned around and saw Malfoy looked drawn. He was paler than usual.   
“No, I suppose it’s not and maybe he is, but that’s the past. I know how much you have changed. Perhaps better than anyone,” she told him. “And he has no right to go to the press accusing you of casting one of three unforgiveable curses on me.”  
Malfoy laughed.   
“What’s funny about that?” Heath asked in his usual serious way.   
“Nothing I suppose except it’s so like Granger to recite facts.”   
Hermione laughed, but it was cut short. “And what the bloody hell did he mean, he’s talked to the Aurors and the Ordinary Magical Law Enforcement? He has no right to do any such thing on my behalf!”   
“Oy, Potter!” Andrew called out and when Harry looked over, he beckoned with his index finger. The gesture was flirtatious and Heath looked completely exasperated with his boyfriend.   
“Must you flirt with everyone?” Heath muttered.   
“It’s all a part of my charm,” Andrew patted him gently on the chest. “But you know I love you best, darling.”   
Harry sauntered over and smiled. He nodded at Heath and Andrew.   
“What’s going on?”   
“Did Ron try to talk to your office about me and Malfoy?”  
Harry turned red and looked extremely guilty.   
“Out with it, Potter,” Malfoy drawled.   
Hermione looked at him and saw the cold mask of indifference that had settled upon his features again.   
“He did, but I told him he was a nutter. I know the signs of the Imperius Curse and I know ‘Mione can fight it off. She figured it out during the War. I knew it was absolute rubbish, which is why I didn’t say anything.”   
“So you dismissed him? You told him it was rubbish?”  
“Course, I did. Why wouldn’t I?”  
Andrew showed him the article. Harry skimmed it before putting it down and running his hands through his hair.   
“What the hell is going on with him?”   
“I don’t know, but you need to set him straight,” Hermione said crossing her arms. Her voice was bossier than usual.   
“Yeah, I’ll try, but this is – this is a whole other level of delusional, ‘Mione.”   
“Then perhaps a visit to St Mungo’s is in order?” Malfoy suggested with a nasty sneer.   
Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. “No, just tell him to stuff it or I’ll hex him myself.”   
“I’ll talk to him, I swear.”   
“Oh dear,” Hermione sighed. “Mrs Weasley is going to read this.”   
“Poor her,” Andrew sighed and shook his head. “I think this calls for another drink.”   
“No thank you. I think I’d rather just go to bed,” Hermione said with what she hoped was an apologetic smile. “Will you tell Ginny I said good night, Harry?”  
Harry nodded. “Do you want me to walk you back?”  
“I’ll be fine, Harry,” Hermione said bristling. “I’m not exactly helpless, now am I?”   
“No, I just thought – well it’s getting late and –” Hermione looked like he was at a loss for words as he slowly turned pink.   
“It’s alright,” Malfoy interjected “I’ve rather lost my interest in the pub as well.”   
The walk back to the flat was silent.  
Hermione stopped just outside of the door to her bedroom. Malfoy was already stepping over the threshold to his room. His shoulders were hunched and he hung his head.   
“For what it’s worth, I know you would never cast the Imperius Curse to get a date.”   
“Thank you,” he told her with a small smile. “Oh, that reminds me.”   
He took out a black velvet box from his jeans pocket. He tossed it to her. Hermione caught it and opened it. She stared at it, blinking. It was an engagement ring. It did not take an expert to see it was expensive. She studied it for a moment. Taking in the oval cut, the clarity of the diamond and how it was surrounded by rubies that shone in competition with the diamond. The cut was perfect and the silver band was intricate.   
“Malfoy, I can’t accept this,” she looked up at him in amazement. “It’s too much.”   
He shrugged. “I have a my own fortune and my family’s as far as I’m concerned, it’s just a trinket.”   
“Oh,” she was taken aback by his careless demeanour. “I suppose if you’re certain – I mean it is beautiful. Thank you.”   
“It’s nothing,” he looked as if he meant that.   
“Right. Well good night.”   
“Good night.”   
Malfoy still looked morose as he went into his bedroom and closed the door. Hermione sighed and went into the guest bedroom. She was exhausted with fury and despair. She had no idea how to make Ron stop.  
Still plagued by these thoughts, she went to bed. She put the jewellery box on the nightstand. She didn’t even realize that it was still open.   
It felt like hours before she finally fell asleep.   
XXX  
Draco had another drink before bed. It wasn’t something he normally did however, he might need tonight. He was half-tempted to drink a Calming Draught however, with the alcohol he had already consumed he worried it could be hazardous.   
His past was something he would always have to live with. He had long since learned to live with the fact that some people would always doubt or hate him. Still, it was difficult especially as his popularity as a Seeker had gone up. He had been given a lot of leeway and public opinion had grown in his favor the more matches he won. Much like the wizarding world had looked away for the Ludo Bagman’s crimes they were willing to turn a blind eye to his.   
It had helped that both Potter and Granger had given testimony to his benefit in court. Then there were the students and Order Members at the Battle of Hogwarts, who saw that he had traded sides. All in all, it made life bearable. He went from shunned and hated, to popular among Wimbourne Wasps fans. The last time he had played in the World Cup, he had helped England win. Earning him another bout of good-will from the people. Someone had even leaked his donations to charity to the press. Over the years, it was a sizeable sum. Life had been good and looking better now that he had a chance with Granger.   
Now the Weasel was looking to take away everything he had worked for. All of that effort to turn his life around, to make amends for his family and his crimes it would be for nothing. No longer would the doubters and haters be in the minority. It was a painful reminder that made him consider relocating from England, not for the first time. But running away would be cowardly and cowardice was something he tried to avoid these days.   
Eventually, he had fallen asleep. Images and phrases from Weasley’s article ran through his head. The Imperius Curse, he couldn’t even recall ever having cast that outside of his training. He’d never had use for it and it would not occur to him to ever use it on Granger. That said, he wasn’t even sure he could cast it any longer. How did the wand movement go again? It was heartening to know Granger did not think him capable of it. 

He had no idea what time it was when a blood curdling scream woke him. He shot awake and grabbed his wand.   
“Lumos.”   
The tip of his wand lit up with a glow. He cast a spell to check the wards on the flat. Potter and the girl Weasley weren’t back yet. That meant –   
Granger.   
He hurried across the hallway and cracked the door to Granger’s room open. He didn’t see anyone else in the room. Instead, he just heard Granger’s screams.   
She jerked upright in bed and he knew she was awake when she looked toward him.   
“Malfoy?”  
“Yes, I heard your screams. I thought perhaps someone had broken in, but it must have been one hell of a nightmare.”   
“Yes, it was.”   
“Does it happen a lot?”   
“Sometimes. It started after the war.”   
He felt himself go cold. He was no stranger to nightmares after the war both awake and in his sleep. He hadn’t had in years though and truthfully, he was surprised he hadn’t any tonight.   
“A lot of people did,” he said looking over her head. He snuffed out the light. “Is this why you’ve looked thinner.”   
“What do you mean?”   
“You’ve looked thinner, I assumed it was stress, but it was the nightmares.”  
“Yes.”   
“You hid the circles under your eyes with a spell.”   
“Yes,” she sounded worn out and like she was on the verge of tears.  
Shit, Draco thought. What did he do now? Pansy never cried and she was the only real female friend he’d ever had. He was rubbish when girls cried, it tended to send him into a tail spins.   
“When did they stop?”  
“After about a year. For a while, Ginny and I shared a room. She helped me through the worst of them.”   
It was nice to know someone was there for her when it had happened. After the war, Draco had been alone. None of his friends were the kind of people that talked about their emotions. However, they did all find a variety of flimsy excuses to spend time together right after the war. They all knew why, but none of them ever talked about it.   
“The Weaselette is not back yet.”   
Draco did something he desperately wanted to do and knew he was going to regret in the morning. He went over to her bed and sat down.  
“Are you joining me?” Hermione’s voice held shock.   
“If that’s alright.”   
“I suppose,” she sounded hesitant. “I’ll probably be fine.”   
“On the off chance you aren’t, I’ll stay.”   
“Thank you.”   
He got under the covers. She moved over and let him. He stretched out and made himself comfortable on the pillows. He could feel the warmth of her body underneath the covers. She was lying next to him. He couldn’t see her with any certainty, but he thought she was on her side, watching him.   
“Can’t have you running yourself ragged over nightmares, now can we?”   
She snorted and he was sure she was rolling her eyes. “You’re a softie underneath it all.”   
“Don’t tell anyone.”   
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”   
Draco wanted to reach for her, tug her into his arms the way he had on New Year’s, but he knew she wouldn’t want that. He didn’t want to rush things, Granger wasn’t over her messy divorce and he understood. If he had married for love, he might have taken things harder as well. He liked Daphne and respected her, he could even understand the affair. The two of them had never had a spark of real passion. He had only realized how long they had both wanted out when the affair came to light and a part of him was actually relieved as mental as that was.   
“Did you know, I keep most common potions on hand in my laboratory at home.”   
“I’m not surprised,” Granger’s voice was filled with sleep. “What are you getting at?”  
“I took the Draft of Remembrance.”   
Abruptly, Granger appeared properly awake.  
“Don’t just lay there! Tell me what you remembered!”  
Draco chuckled. “You’ll be relieved to learn nothing of interest.”   
“We didn’t…?” her voice trailed off and she cleared her throat clearly embarrassed.   
“No, we snogged and then we passed out together. If we’d been a little more sober, we might have made it to the finish line however, we did not.”   
“Oh, what a relief!” Granger sighed and fell back into the pillows.   
It didn’t need to be quite that big of a relief, Draco thought.   
“Yes, well the war hero can’t have her perfect reputation sullied by someone like me.”   
Granger laughed. “Oh, Malfoy remember when you thought I was the filthy one?” she laughed and then grew more serious. “It’s just I would like to think I am handling my divorce better than a drunk one-night stand.”   
Draco chuckled. “I suppose it’s hard to take offence at that.”   
“Thank you for staying with me tonight.”   
“It’s nothing.”   
Draco felt his eyelids go heavy. He was lulled to sleep by the sound of Granger’s soft breathing. He could feel her presence in the bed next to him.  
The next thing he knew, he must have slipped into a dream because a small hand slipped into his.   
XXX  
It was still dark out even though the clock on the nightstand said it was 8 am. Hermione woke feeling refreshed for the first time in a long time. Her hand was tangled in something and when she looked, she saw she was holding Malfoy’s hand. Her head was on his shoulder, his face was turned to her forehead. His other arm was draped over her waist. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it was intimate.   
Had this happened while they were in their sleep?   
It was more comforting than she had thought possible with Malfoy. Relief washed over her as she realized, the nightmares hadn’t returned when he slept in bed with her. She had fudged the truth a little for him. The nightmares had stopped sometime after her engagement to Ron. Feeling secure and like she wasn’t alone helped.   
At least, that was what her therapist said. Hermione hadn’t been in a long time and maybe it was time to start again. It was a Muggle therapist, the wife of a wizard and she helped council Hermione through the worst of it. She thought Hermione’s nightmares were PTSD and triggered by feeling alone. A normal reaction, now that she was for all intents and purposes an orphan.   
Hermione turned toward him. Gently, she nudged his chest with her free hand. “It’s morning, Malfoy.”   
He mumbled something in his sleep. He rolled onto his side and pulled her against his chest. He put his head on top of hers.   
“Must you be such an early bird?”  
“Malfoy,” she whined pushing on his chest. “Don’t you have training?”  
“No, just the match later today,” his voice was filled with sleep.   
Hermione surrendered to his warmth. She snuggled into his chest and let him tuck her head underneath his. Malfoy smelled incredible even after a night of drinking. He did smell like alcohol, but she could also smell his cologne, it was a spicy fragrance and she breathed it in. logically, she knew it was pheromones that made her think he smelled nice after a night of drinking and she also knew that meant on some level she was attracted to him. However, she supposed she knew that from before. She felt small and safe as he wrapped his well-muscled arms more tightly around her.  
“Just a few more minutes,” she agreed. “But then we have to get up in case Harry and Ginny are already awake, alright, Malfoy?”   
“Alright,” he groaned. “Suppose you can call me Draco, if you prefer.”   
Hermione thought it over for a minute. It felt strange to call him Draco after all these years, but if they could sleep in the same bed, first name basis was hardly a big deal.   
“Yes, I reckon you’re right. Then you must call me, Hermione.”   
“Hermione,” he mumbled sounding as if he was falling back asleep.   
Surrendering to the comfort and his snuggles, she closed her eyes.   
When she woke next, it was an hour later. Draco still had her tightly in his arms and he was snoring softly. The sound made her smile.   
“Draco,” she pushed on him. “Draco, wake up.”   
Draco groaned and rolled onto his back. He rubbed his eyes.   
“You don’t sleep in much, do you?”  
“No.”   
Draco surprised her by wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her onto his chest. She was hesitant at first, but then she relaxed into him. She draped her arm across his stomach and listened to his heartbeat.   
She felt him fidget and pick something up off the nightstand. “If you don’t like the ring, I can get you something else.”   
“It’s lovely, I just don’t feel right letting you get me something that expensive.”   
“Well I could hardly give you a family heirloom.”   
“Of course not.”   
Draco ran his hands through her curls, mussing them up.   
“I’m fairly certain most of them are cursed. I had one ancestor, who gave his mother’s ring to a half-blood witch, she died of a nasty blood curse.”   
“Oh, dear,” Hermione sighed.   
It would always be like this between them. A long history of prejudice that had nothing and everything to do with them at the same time.   
Hermione got up. Draco caught her wrist and looked at her with serious grey eyes.   
“You know I don’t care about blood status, right?”   
“Right.”   
She smiled at him, hoping to alleviate some of the tension that had come into his expression. It reminded her that thanks to their engagement he was now under fire again. There would be those that would suspect him and the unfairness of that made her feel both angry and exhausted. Draco was not the same boy he had once been. He hadn’t been a bully in years and had changed more than most people ever did in a lifetime in a few short years. Yet Ron wanted to accuse him of casting the Imperius Curse on her?  
“I think we should report Ron to the Aurors,” Hermione said. “Unless he agrees to give an interview clearing your name.”   
“It won’t matter,” Draco said avoiding eye contact. “If he sways public opinion, it won’t matter if the Aurors declare me a saint.”   
She laughed, but it was brief. “It matters to me. Ron does not control my life or yours. If he wants to play games, I’m going to finish him.”   
Draco smirked. “He’ll never know what hit him.”  
In that moment, Hermione felt very much like she had an alley. Someone, who was as affected by Ron’s behavior as her. It was comforting to know she wasn’t alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of the support and feedback this chapter has received! I'm fireismyelement97 on tumblr if you want to leave me an ask with a drabble request for dramione, bonkai or kennett. Let me know what you thought of this chapter :)


	8. Chapter 8

Updating early because I am leaving for Ohio tomorrow morning and I don’t know when I will have time to update. Since I had the chapter ready, I didn’t want to leave my beautiful readers hanging. Sorry, I didn’t proof this super well, but I still hope it’s a good read! 

Hermione cast one last lingering look at the engagement ring on the nightstand before she followed Draco the kitchen. It was weird to think of him as Draco and not Malfoy. Just as it was strange to think he bought her an engagement ring. The only thing that seemed normal in this whole mess was that his family heirlooms were cursed. She was used to the Malfoys and their blood supremacy. She was not used to a kind Draco or Ron spreading lies about her in the media.   
Just as strange was Harry and Ginny having breakfast in Draco’s kitchen. What felt even less normal – Draco joined them, greeting them without an ounce of sarcasm or a single insult. It was strange to think his time in hiding with Mr and Mrs Weasley had helped him as much as it had. Maybe all he needed all along was parents, who were kind and loving.   
“Morning,” Ginny said with a cheery smile. “We didn’t want to wake either of you so we went to the café next door and got a little of everything that looked good.”   
“Help yourselves,” Harry said passing a basket of biscuits to Draco.   
“Thank you.”   
Hermione sat down and fixed herself a cup of tea.  
“Nervous about the match?” Ginny asked Draco.   
“No, I’m used to the nerves by now.”  
“Are you?” she looked surprised. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to them. Always feels like there is a flock of Hyppogriphs in my stomach on game day.”  
“You love that feeling, Gin.”  
“Of course, I do,” Ginny said smiling fondly at her husband. “That feeling is how you know you’re alive.”   
Hermione smiled and had a sip of her tea. It was blackcurrant. It was surprisingly sweet even without sugar. She closed her eyes and savored the moment.   
“We’re adrenaline junkies the both of us,” Harry confessed to Draco.  
Draco cracked a smile and chuckled. “I’m not surprised with all of the trouble the two of you got yourselves into at school.”   
Ginny flashed a mischievous smile at Hermione. “Why so quiet ‘Mione? Don’t tell me you’ve let that rubbish Ron said to Skeeter affect you?”   
“I am so tired of dealing with him, Gin. And the accusations he made toward Draco –” she shook her head in disgust. “It’s lower than I knew he could stoop.”   
Draco kept his head down and his shoulders were hunched forward. Everything about his posture was tense.   
“I think perhaps I can help,” Harry said looking awkward. “I know it’s technically not the sort of thing Aurors ordinarily deal with, but he has made accusations that Malfoy is a dark wizard. If I run some tests on you and prove you are not under the Imperius Curse, which I already know –” he held his hands up defensively when Ginny turned to him breathing angrily. “Then if he does not issue a public retraction, we can arrange for a restraining order.”   
“That would serve him bloody right,” Ginny muttered under her breath. She stabbed her pastry with her fork, much harder than necessary. “I don’t know what happened to him, but he is mad.”   
“Perhaps you should check your brother into St Mungos,” Draco drawled.   
Hermione almost spit out her tea and took a long moment to compose herself. Harry looked as if he was torn between the urge to laugh and loyalty to Ron. Ginny actually laughed.   
“Why don’t we change the subject?” Hermione suggested. “Did Andrew and Heath have a good time yesterday?”   
“Yes, they’re always a blast,” Ginny said with an excited smile. “They invited me to come on a spa weekend in the Bahamas a couple weeks from now. I’m supposed to tell you, you have to come.”   
“A spa weekend?” Hermione sighed dreamily. “That sounds like heaven.”   
“You want to go on holiday with two men?” Harry said looking at Ginny in surprise.   
He didn’t sound jealous precisely or particularly angry, simply confused. Hermione exchanged smiles with Draco when they both realized the problem at the same time.   
“Harry dear,” Ginny said patting his hands. “They’re gay.”  
“They are? Wait – are they a couple?”   
Hermione nodded. “They’ve been together for years.”   
“Oh, well in that case,” he shrugged and went back to eating his breakfast.   
Ginny and Hermione burst into fits of laughter.  
XXX  
Hermione sat in the top box stands with Ginny and Harry. Andrew and Heath were directly in front of them in the row below. Those pre-game butterflies and nerves that Draco seemed to be missing, she had in spades. She tapped her foot against the floor and only stopped when Ginny put her hand on her knee.   
“It’s alright, ‘Mione. Even if Malfoy loses, he’s still a better man than –” whatever Ginny was going to say she never did voice. Instead, she stared at Hermione’s hand.   
Hermione flushed. She had actually forgotten that she put the ring on. It had been an afterthought as she got ready for the game. She had seen it sitting there on her nightstand and decided to wear it to the match as a show of support for Draco. He had left well before them so he of course had no idea she was wearing his ring. She wondered what he would say.  
It wasn’t as if they had discussed a ring or even like she had really wanted one. It wasn’t as if they were in love and with the latest article from Ron, it wouldn’t have surprised her if Draco never wanted to see her again. Instead, he had slept in the same bed as her last night, just to keep the nightmares away. It was sweet and just thinking about it filled her with warmth.  
“Hermione is that a ring?” Ginny said at last seeming to have gathered her thoughts. “It’s – oh wow,” she elbowed Harry. “I think I’m going to need another ring.”  
“Sure, whatever you want,” Harry answered absent-mindedly.   
The girls giggled. Harry was on the edge of his seat, his eyes were fixed eagerly on the pitch. It reminded Hermione how good he used to be. If he had wanted to, he could have had a career as a Seeker. But then the plan had been for all of them to become Aurors together. Her, Harry and Ron. Funny, how life worked out sometimes.   
The match was about to start. The announcer cried out the names of each player as they flew onto the pitch.   
Hermione kept her eyes peeled on the yellow and black uniforms. She didn’t want to see Ron, so she kept her eyes out for Malfoy. He was the last player to make an entrance.   
“Seeker for the Wimbourne Wasps – DRACO MALFOY!” the announcer cried.   
Hermione clapped and cheered with the rest of the section. Yet there was something different about the noise coming from the crowd this time. There was a lot of hissing and booing. Hermione saw red. And in her intense fury, she cheered even louder, getting to her feet with Harry and Ginny.  
The match started out fairly slow.   
“Wimbourne in possession of the Quaffle, he aims, he shoots – HE – MISSES!”   
Their section booed when Ron caught the Quaffle. The beaters for the Chudley Canons aimed a Bludger at Malfoy, who dodged it by doing a barrel roll in mid-air. Hermione watched with her heart in her throat, it had been close. It had missed by less than half an inch.   
“The Canons strategy seems to be to take out Malfoy,” the announcer said when a second Bludger went straight for Draco.   
Hermione kept her eyes on Draco and listened to the announcer without paying much attention. Quidditch had never been her sport and right now, she was most preoccupied with making sure he made it off the pitch without any serious injuries.   
The Beaters were circling Draco, aiming the Bludgers at him every chance they got. It got so bad the Wimbourne Wasps’ Beaters were circling Draco, keeping the others away from him. Draco must have said something to them because next thing she knew, they were chasing the Canon’s Beaters across the field using the Bludgers to drive them ahead.   
The Seeker for the Canons flew up behind Draco. He looked to be tailing him. Hermione didn’t know much about Quidditch, but she had seen Draco use that tactic before when he used to play Harry.   
Then something, she had never seen before happened.  
“That’s Johnson,” Ginny told her. “What’s he –” her voice died away as she stared in amazement.   
Johnson aimed his broom toward Draco and flew at him at full speed.   
“They’re going to crash!” Hermione shrieked.   
Draco hadn’t seen him and moments later, they did crash together in mid-air. Draco toppled off his broom. He went hurtling toward the ground and Hermione got to her feet, staring.   
The crowd gasped and cried out.   
Two of Draco’s teammates came to his rescue. They flew at breakneck speeds and managed to catch him before he could hit the ground. Hermione let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.   
The referee was going crazy blowing his whistle over and over again until it was over.  
“Penalty shot for the Wimbourne Wasps!” the announcer’s voice bellowed magically amplified. “As it should be after that foul bit of cheating from the Canons!”   
The Chaser got one past Ron and Hermione was on her feet, cheering louder than anyone around her.   
It took a downward turn from there, the Chudley Canons scored three goals in succession. Hermione groaned and booed with the rest of them.   
Her eyes were drawn to Draco and she saw he was diving toward something. It looked like that feint thing Victor and Harry used to talk about.   
“He’s doing the Wronsky Feint, I think,” Ginny whispered. “I can’t see.”   
She put her Omninocolours on. “Oh, he’s found the snitch!” Ginny exclaimed with a smile.  
Hermione smiled and took a moment to think how strange it was that she, Harry and Ginny were all rooting for Draco. He had been Harry’s fiercest Quidditch rival at Hogwarts after all.   
Then with bated breath she watched as Draco stretched his arm out. The Chudley’s Seeker had wised up and was on his tail. He was getting impossibly close to the ground, if he wasn’t careful he was going to crash and break his neck.   
Draco’s hand wrapped around something and at the last second, he pulled himself level with the ground. He flew along the ground.   
“I don’t believe it! Malfoy got the Snitch!” the announcer cried.   
Hermione got to her feet and cheered. The stands burst into applause and boos. There were cries and hisses coming from the Chudley Canon section.   
XXX  
As the rest of his team celebrated, Draco went straight for the locker rooms. He heard what some people were shouting ‘Death Eater’. And they weren’t wrong. He had been a Death Eater, had joined Voldemort yet even all these years later, he still felt a burst of rage and shame whenever someone called him that.   
He sat down on a bench in the locker and room and put his face in his hands. He heard footsteps, but didn’t bother to look up. It was probably just Scott coming to check on him. Except, the only thing he wanted was to be left alone.   
“Draco, are you in here?” a female voice called out.   
He looked up. It couldn’t be her, could it?  
“Hermione?”  
She walked in and he noticed she looked a little flustered. Her cheeks were tinged pink and he realized, she had probably never been in a men’s locker room before. Yet her expression was determined, if tense.   
She sat down next to him. “Congratulations.”   
He jumped in surprise, when she put her hand on his shoulder. He didn’t move though. It felt good.   
“Thank you.”   
“You heard Harry this morning, we are going to get all of this cleared up.”   
He nodded, but he didn’t believe it. There was no escaping his past. He still bore the dark mark on his arm. He may hide it using glamors, but it was still there. Just as he knew Hermione still bore the scar his aunt gave her.   
His aunt, it reminded him of his mother. This was probably not the best time to bring it up, but it would be better if she heard it from him. Before the press swarmed them later. If things between them were going to implode, it would be better if it happened before the reporters saw them together.   
“There’s something I should tell you about my mother.”   
“She doesn’t like me? Because that’s alright.”   
He heard the smile in her voice.   
“No, she likes you. However, she likes you so much she tried to bribe the Ministry to pair us together.”   
She gasped in surprise and he turned to look at her. She looked surprised, but not as if she hated him. How much had he changed in her eyes for her to take this so calmly? Back at Hogwarts, she would have chewed him out.   
“Did you say tried?”   
He grinned because of course she would catch that.   
“Yes, they told her the results could not be falsified.”   
“No,” she shook her head. “I don’t believe that. There is no possible way I would be matched with Ron because he’s my perfect match.”   
“I agree.”   
She nodded, she looked like she was mulling it over. “Someone must have interfered, possibly even Ron. I’ll ask Harry to look into and I’ll speak to them myself.”   
“Probably wise.”   
“And did you want your mother to match us?”   
He stared at her for a moment.   
“Of course not!” she winced at the forcefulness in his voice. He swallowed and took a deep breath to calm down. “I told her I didn’t want to force your hand. Not that she listened. She’s eager for this marriage.”   
“I wonder why,” Hermione said pensively.   
Draco sighed and realized it was time to come clean.   
“She thinks it will turn public opinion in favor of our family again.”   
Hermione nodded again.   
“Is that what you think?” she asked and he looked at her, too dumbfounded to speak. “It’s alright if you do,” she continued. “After all, we’re not in love. It’s just the best option for us.”   
“No, it’s not what I think. I happen to rather like you.”   
She smiled. “I rather like you too.”   
Well that was certainly progress. Draco felt ten pounds lighter. She could have walked away and she hadn’t. Instead, they were still friends. Strangely enough, he felt closer to her.   
“Come on,” he said. “I’ve got to deal with the press.”   
“We could slip out the back?” she suggested.   
He grinned. “As much as I like that idea, if I do they’ll just show up at my flat or home. Trust me, I’ve tried it in the past.”   
“I’ll be in the crowd.”  
Hermione stood to go. He followed her gesture, but surprised himself when he took her hand.   
“No, you don’t. I’ve never caught the Snitch that fast before as my good luck charm, you’re obligated to stay by my side.”   
Hermione laughed and shook her head. “Fine, if you insist.”   
Something cold and hard scratched his hand. He glanced down and saw she was wearing his engagement ring. It made him smile and he looked away, he didn’t want her to catch him looking. Instead, he laced their fingers together and led her outside.   
As predicted the press was waiting outside. At the front of the throng was Rita Skeeter. Of course, that bloody banshee was here.   
Draco joined his teammates. All of whom, turned to smile and wave at Hermione. Scott and Harrison pushed their way past the rest of the team. They pulled her away from him and wrapped and arm across her shoulder, one of either side of her. Their antics made him smile and shake his head. Hermione looked surprised, but went along with it.   
“Oy, Skeeter over here!” Scott called. “Get a picture of us with our new best mate.”   
“Oy, you lousy old gossip, come get some real news for a change!” Harrison taunted.   
Draco laughed and covered his mouth with his hand. The last thing he needed was for Skeeter to think he was laughing at her. She would probably run some new nasty article about him in retaliation.   
Rita Skeeter smiled a nasty smile and ordered her photographer to get some photos of them. While he did, she turned to Draco.   
“Tell me, Mr Malfoy how does it feel to win your first match of the season?”  
“Excellent and it was a team effort.”   
Her quill took notes for her as she nodded her head.   
“And how did it feel to be knocked off your broomstick? Did it feel like justice for casting an Unforgiveable Curse on Ms Granger?”   
Draco took a few deep breaths and tried to calm himself down. He turned away, prepared to talk to the other reporters when Hermione furiously elbowed her way through the throng of people.   
“Those accusations are nothing less than slander,” Hermione said in a deadly calm tone. Draco knew it well. It usually meant someone was about to get slaughtered. “A term I am certain you are familiar with Skeeter.”   
Rita Skeeter flushed a deep shade of crimson.   
XXX  
Hermione was ready punch Skeeter, but that would not stop anything else. So she settled for a good telling off.   
“And –” Hermione said pulling herself up to her full height and staring daggers at the report. “They are under investigation by the Aurors, who will no doubt clear Draco of these absurd accusations concocted by a vindictive ex.”   
Hermione looked over her shoulder and saw Draco looked surprised yet pleased. She gave him an encouraging smile.   
“So you’re saying you’re not under the Imperius Curse?” another reporter inquired.   
Hermione resisted the urge to groan. If she really were under the Imperius Curse that was exactly the sort of thing she would lie about. Honestly didn’t anyone pay attention in Defense Against the Dark Arts?   
A shock of red hair caught her attention at the back of the crowd. It was Ginny. She and Harry were elbowing their way to the front of the crowd.   
“Draco would never do anything so despicable!” Scott spat at Skeeter.   
“You expect me to believe that? Mr Weasley is a credible source with nothing to gain from making these accusations.”   
“Nothing to gain? He’s her ex-husband!” Harrison exclaimed.   
“And you’re just looking to milk this to sell more papers,” Draco drawled. “Well I’ve nothing to say regarding the accusations.”   
On instinct, Hermione took Draco’s hand. He laced his fingers through hers and his hand was gripping hers tightly. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.   
“Is that a ring?” Skeeter said her beady eyes zoning in on the engagement ring with precision.   
“Yes, Draco and I are getting married,” Hermione said raising her chin. “And you’ll forgive us if you don’t get an invitation to the wedding.”   
Skeeter’s lips twisted into a nasty smile. Fortunately, Harry and Ginny arrived before Skeeter could cause any more trouble.   
Harry purposefully put himself at the front of the crowd, in front of both her and Draco. She appreciated it more than he knew because she knew he hated the press as much as she did.   
“As most of you know, I’m an Auror. I think I can put these rumors to rest right now in front of everyone.”   
The crowd looked on with curiosity.   
“Hermione if you please,” Harry continued. He took out his wand. “This shouldn’t hurt, I’m just going to run a test for the Imperius Curse.”   
She nodded. The spell to check if a person was under the control of the Imperius Curse was something she had helped the Aurors invent however, it was not something she was going to share with Skeeter. She could probably put a spin on that as well.   
Harry waved his wand in a circular motion before tapping lightly on her forehead. “Revelio Imperiusito,” he murmured.   
She felt nothing. Nothing happened, just as she knew it wouldn’t.   
The crowd murmured in amazement. Harry turned to face them.   
“See, if she had been cursed she would have gone to sleep and woken up in a few hours. Is that enough evidence?” Harry asked.   
“Not for me!” Ron cried elbowing his way through the crowd. Though it wasn’t necessary. As soon as the reporters saw him, they stepped aside. “What about a love potion?”   
“Seriously, Weasley? Just because that’s the only way you can get a date doesn’t mean the rest of us need to stoop so low,” Draco sneered.   
Hermione bit back a smile.   
“It’s possible!” Ron exclaimed. “He’s an expert at potions! I’m sure he could brew one easily and administer it!”   
“Ron, I am about to hex you myself if you don’t stop this nonsense!” Ginny said swelling like a bullfrog. She looked a lot like her mother in that moment.   
“Get a grip!” Hermione said getting angry. “Honestly, a love potion has to be administered daily.”   
“Yes, even a dunce like you should know the effects wear off after twenty-four hours,” Draco said.   
“That’s easy!” Ron blustered. “You can slip her something easily.”   
“Oh Merlin,” Hermione exclaimed.   
“We haven’t seen each other in weeks, how do you think I would manage that?” Draco said.   
“I don’t know! I’m not a Death Eater!”   
“Ron,” Harry said stepping up to him. He spoke quietly. “You’re my best mate, but if you don’t stop this, I’m going to have to take you into custody.”   
“You can’t do that!” Ron exclaimed.   
“Go home, Ron before I tell mum,” Ginny said.   
Turning a furious shade of magenta, Ron stalked off the Quidditch pitch.   
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She looked at Draco and saw he was tense with quiet fury. He was paler than usual and his aristocratic features were stark against the midday sun.   
“Can we go?” she whispered to Draco.   
“Yes, let’s get the hell out of here.”   
XXX  
Harry and Ginny left for the bed and breakfast they had booked for the rest of the weekend. After the incident with Ron, they didn’t want to impose. Hermione could see why, Draco had been sitting at the kitchen table for hours, just staring into space. She wanted to do something for him, but she didn’t know what. She thought maybe she should leave yet something inside of her didn’t want to. Draco looked like he could use a friend and right now, she was the only one there. And the more selfish part of her, didn’t want to be alone.   
Instead, she sat down at the table across from him and did her best not to cry. She hated what Ron was doing and she was so exhausted from dealing with him all of the time.   
“Do you want me to leave too?”  
Draco looked at her then. “No, that’s alright. I’m just – I can’t quite wrap my mind around this.”   
“Neither can I. I don’t understand what Ron is thinking,” she shook her head. “It’s like he’s obsessed.”   
Draco chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “I know what he’s thinking. He fucked up when he cheated, realized he had a good thing and now he’ll do anything he can to get you back.”   
“But even if it involves accusing you of dark magic?”   
Hermione was so appalled she didn’t know what to do with herself. She had never felt such a strong sense of betrayal before.   
“My past it makes it easy for him.”   
“Yes, that’s what he thinks. But I am not going to make this easy for Ron. Harry and I have already agreed I can lodge a complaint against him on Monday. It should result in a restraining order and an agreement for him to stop talking to the press about us.”   
Draco smiled, he reached out and took her hand. She let him lace their fingers together and smiled back at him.   
“Do you want to go back to England?”  
“Maybe,” she said thinking it over. If she went home now, she could spend her evening getting a head start on next week’s workload, but the idea didn’t hold the same appeal it normally did. “What about your team celebration?”   
“It might be fun, usually is.”   
“And you won today. I don’t know much about Quidditch –”  
“Must be just about the only thing you don’t know anything about.”  
Hermione ignored that and carried on. “But I’m sure that catch was impressive. You should celebrate. I’ll stay here. I don’t think I bear anymore crowds today.”   
“Nonsense, I think you could use a good drink more than I. I can’t imagine how trying this all is.”   
Hermione tensed. How could he know how much she was struggling under the weight of it? Or how she was certain the reason her nightmares were back was the strain of Ron’s behavior. It was exhausting and upsetting, it had to be the trigger.   
“I suppose one drink couldn’t hurt,” she sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m just so tired of this Ron drama.”  
Draco snorted. “You should know by now, Hermione I’m usually right.”  
“Now that’s a good joke,” she said laughing.   
Draco smiled at her. He got to his feet and held his hand out to her. She put her hand in his. Draco’s hand was rough, and an unexpected thrill went through her at the contact. They had held hands before yet somehow this time it felt different, it made her feel something more than just comfort or friendship. A feeling, which she did her best to ignore even though she held on to his all the way to the pub.   
When they arrived at the pub, the place was crowded. It wasn’t just the team there, a lot of their family members were as well. Andrew and Heath were at a booth with Harry and Ginny. Scott and Harrison stood next to their table, talking animatedly about something.   
Some of the team members caught sight of them. They burst into applause, cheering and stomping their feet on the floor. Someone whistled.   
Harrison and Scott elbowed their way to the front of the crowd.   
“There he is now! The man of the hour!”   
“Look at you!” Harrison exclaimed.   
“Won the match!”  
“Bloody brilliant!”   
Scott grabbed Draco by the shoulders and shook him as he grinned from ear to ear. Hermione couldn’t help herself, the sight made her smile.   
She noticed a couple of Muggles in the pub, they were watching all of the excitement curiously. She caught Harry’s eye and he mouthed: “Took care of it.” He must have already used memory charms to keep them from noticing too much just as the Ministry employees did at the World Cup. It was standard Ministry procedure, every employee had been giving training in the proper way to conduct memory charms, an additional precaution so as not to harm Muggles.   
Hermione left the boys to celebrate. She joined Harry, Ginny, Andrew and Heath. Andrew gave her a sympathetic smile and passed her a pint.   
“Have a drink, love. It’ll help.”   
“Dear, I’m sure Hermione doesn’t want to talk about Ron,” Heath said putting a hand on Andrew’s shoulder.   
“No, I do not.”   
“Well I for one am telling mother,” Ginny huffed. “It’ll do him good to receive a howler at practice.”  
Hermione laughed.   
XXX  
Ron was back in his London flat. He had decided to drink himself into a stupor. It wasn’t as if anything else was going to stop this pain. He loved Hermione and she had chosen that sodding Dark Eater over him.  
When she punched him, he had been sure she was under the Imperius Curse because the real Hermione would never punch him. She was terrifying, but brilliant and she had never once been half so angry at him as she was that day. Not even when she learned he was having an affair with Poppy.   
Now, he felt certain there must be a love potion involved. He didn’t care what that git Malfoy said or Hermione. She was enchanted so how could she know what Malfoy was doing to her? And if it wasn’t a love potion it was some other kind of dark magic because there was no way someone as kind and good and brave as Hermione would choose that snivelling ferret over him. Ron was a war hero, star Quidditch player and her best friend, so what else could it possibly be?   
All Ron knew was that he had to get Hermione back. When he had received his Ministry letter, he had thought this was it. This would win her back and now look at him, halfway through a bottle of Ogden’s Firewhiskey and Hermione was Merlin knew where, doing who knew what with that ferret.   
What was almost worse than her betrayal was Harry and Ginny. How could they side with Malfoy? Malfoy of all people?   
Somehow, he had to fix this. Then inspiration struck. He grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill. Frantically, he wrote a letter to the Ministry.   
XXX  
Hermione was about to go to bed when there was a knock on the door to the guest room. She put on a dressing robe before opening the door.   
Draco was on the other side. He was wearing a pair of black silk pyjama bottoms and nothing else. At first her eyes, fell on his six-pack, he was still lean, but broader than he had been at Hogwarts then she quickly raised her eyes to his. She flushed when she saw the arrogant smirk, Draco wore.   
“Yes?” she said clearing her throat and tapping her foot impatiently.   
“Are you going to bed?”   
“Yes, obviously,” she pulled the dressing gown shut at her chest. “What are you doing here, Draco?”  
“I thought perhaps you would like some company?”  
“C-company?” she stared at him flabbergasted.   
“Yes, company,” Draco said in an exasperated tone of voice. “You know to circumvent the nightmares altogether. What do you say?”   
Hermione thought it over. Last night had been nice. Draco had made her feel safe like the nightmares couldn’t touch her. The potions had stopped working, she had an immunity to them now. And after today, she was guaranteed to have nightmares with the amount of pain Ron had caused her.   
“Fine,” it was a curt reply, but it was all she could bring herself to give.   
She had already shown more vulnerability in front of Draco than she ever wanted to reveal to any man again. Her divorce from Ron had left her raw and hurt in a way she could not express in words. And she was not about to make the same mistake again with Draco.   
Closing herself off from Draco was not fair to him. She knew that because he clearly wanted there to be something real between them, but she wasn’t sure she could manage it. That fear was the same reason she had not stormed into the Ministry already to demand to know what happened to the matchmaking spell. She was terrified of learning Ron really was her best match because if he was, her chance at a romantic life was doomed.   
Hermione turned off the lights before she took off her robe. Draco was already in the bed. She sat down on the edge of the bed and got in. She made sure to lay down as far away from Draco as possible. She convinced herself this did not need to be romantic in any way.   
After all, she and Ginny had done this plenty of times after the War when they were both suffering from nightmares and the boys were away at Auror training. Just as when they returned to Hogwarts, they shared a dormitory. They were like sisters and this thing with Draco, it could simply be a thing friends did as well.  
“If you’d like, I could come to your house when you’re back in England.”   
“How do you mean?” she blushed when she realized what he meant. “Oh, for the nightmares. That’s kind, but you don’t need to worry about me, Draco.”   
She heard Draco shift next to her. She looked and saw he had turned onto his side to face her so she mirrored him.   
“With what your ex is doing, Hermione can’t see how I couldn’t.”   
“He’ll give up eventually.”  
“He certainly better,” he sighed. “I had an owl from mother today. Would you like to join us for dinner on Monday evening?”   
She stiffened.   
“Where?” she croaked.   
“My house.”  
“Yes, that would be lovely.”   
“I’ll let mother know.”   
“Good night, Draco.”  
“Good night, Hermione,” he murmured sounding as if he was already falling asleep.   
XXX  
Monday morning at the Ministry, Hermione was both exhausted and in a foul mood. Andrew had his head on the desk and was dozing off. A copy of the Daily Prophet was next to him and Hermione saw a photograph of herself. She had long since, unsubscribed. In most instances, she felt it best to know what the enemy was saying, but this was not war, simply gossip and she did not need the added stress.   
She picked it up, waking Andrew in the process. The photograph was of her and Draco, holding hands after the Quidditch match. Her photographic self was pressing herself closer to Draco as he put himself between her and Ron, who appeared to be shouting. She skimmed the article. 

Love Triangle Gone Wrong!   
Hermione Granger Caught Between Ex-Husband and New Fiancé  
Hermione Granger’s love life has taken an interesting turn. As the Wizarding world watched with fascination as she began a new romance with Draco Malfoy (acquitted Death Eater and Seeker for the Wimbourne Wasp) after a divorce from Ronald Weasley (war hero and Keeper for the Chudley Canons). However, this blossoming romance is not as innocent as it may have appeared at first glance.   
New information has come to light as it has been proven that Ms Granger is not under the Imperius Curse, it becomes increasingly likely that she is under the influence of a love potion. This shocking discovery came to light on Friday afternoon when Mr Weasley made his suspicions heard. It his view that Mr Malfoy as a former Death Eater is using dark magic to ensare Mrs Granger into a relationship, she would otherwise shun.   
Given Mr Malfoy and Ms Granger’s backgrounds, this theory might explain an otherwise inexplicable relationship. Are Granger and Malfoy star-crossed lovers or a tragic tale? This reporter wants to know and urges the Ministry to investigate with the utmost urgency. 

Hermione threw it straight in the trashbin, which was exactly where such rubbish belonged. She blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill. She was never going to cry over anything that horrid Skeeter woman wrote. Not even if it was thanks to Hermione giving her that article in sixth year that got her, her job back at the Prophet.   
“The Aurors are already looking into Ron’s claims aren’t they?” Andrew asked with a quizzical expression. “Once that’s cleared up, I’m sure Skeeter will find someone else to write about.”   
“I hope so,” Hermione sighs. “Although this reminds me of something I’ve been putting off for too long. I’ll be back soon.”   
Before she could leave an interdepartmental note flew into her hand. Expecting another correspondence from Zabini regarding the house elves, she opened it only to find another unwanted surprise for the second time this morning. 

Ms Granger,   
It has come to the Ministry’s attention that you are flouting the law by choosing a match outside of your Ministry appointed one. As your relationship to Draco Malfoy is previously unknown and you were registered in our files as single as was Mr Malfoy, this requires an inquiry.   
I refer you to law E, section 3212 of Magical Matchmaking where it clearly states in the use of archaic matchmaking that if there is no previous relationship established, the witch or wizard in question must marry the appointed match. To do otherwise, could be a reckless attempt to avoid complying with the Ministry’s repopulation efforts.   
As this is a most egregious crime that might land the offender in Azkaban, you are to submit to an inquiry by agents of the Wizengamot.   
All the best,   
Raina Wattsford. 

With a determinedness, Hermione hadn’t felt in a long time, she hurried towards the Legislative Department. She had to take the elevator to get there. She tapped her foot, greeting the occasional witch or wizard, some of whom were watching her with curious or concerned expressions. Above their heads, flying notes hovered.   
When the fifth witch gave her a shifty look, Hermione became completely exasperated.   
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! I’m not on a love potion,” Hermione exclaimed irritably.   
Several people blinked, some cleared their throats and looked away. Hermione scoffed. This was unbearable. She felt worse for Draco, if people thought she was a victim, they would think he was the evildoer. Which was going to be a nightmare for him when he returned to the Ministry. hopefully, he had some friends here.   
Draco, she thought.   
Blast, she should check on him once she got this sorted. This whole thing was turning into a nightmare. And she shuddered when she started to realize, Ron might never give up. At this rate, he seemed more obsessed with her than moving on with his life. Hopefully, Harry could come through with that restraining order otherwise, she was going to hex Ron into oblivion.   
After what felt like an eternity, her elevator reached the right floor. She strode out without as much as a glance to spare for the other employees. She marched straight up to the office of the man in charm and knocked. The second after she knocked, she was already on her way inside.   
A middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair was sitting behind a desk. He looked completely scandalized.   
“Ms Granger?” he exclaimed in shock.   
As they had never met, Hermione could only surmise, he recognized her from the numerous articles in the Prophet.   
“Yes, and you are?”   
“Sonny Pepperton, head of the Magical Legislative Department,” he told her straightening up. “What can I do for you today?”   
“Well perhaps you can explain to me how I was matched with Ron Weasley,” she said breathing through her nose.   
“Certainly, it’s a complex spell –”  
“Not what I meant,” Hermione interrupted, past caring that she was rude. “As Draco Malfoy was also paired with his ex-wife, I can only assume Galleons were exchanged or perhaps there was blackmail, political favors, I don’t really care. All I want to know is, who was responsible for this. If you do not tell me, I will be forced to take this above your head. As you are aware, I am a friend of Kingsley Shacklebolt and if you think I will not go directly to him and the law enforcement department, you are very much mistaken.”   
Pepperton looked shaken to his core. He gaped at her, opening and closing his mouth several times before composing himself. “You are as formidable as your reputation, Ms Granger.”  
“Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” Hermione confirmed with a sweet smile. “Now, what is it going to be?”   
“Very well, very well, have a seat. Do you mind closing the door behind you?”  
Hermione closed the door and sat down in the plush chair in front of his desk.   
“I don’t have all day, so if you don’t mind getting on with it.”   
“I trust that this will stay between us?” Pepperton said. He took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow.   
“If you tell me the truth, it will.”   
“Jolly good then,” he nodded. “I was ehm – well – a rather influential figure paid me to uhm – tamper a little with the results. All I had to do was change the names in the files afterwards.”  
Hermione felt her temper rise to the surface. “You are aware that is a crime and Ministry documents are meant to be tamper proof?”  
“Well meant to be and whether or not they are –” he chuckled. “My dear girl, those are two very different things.”   
Hermione’s eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips. “And who was this person?”   
“Lucius Malfoy,” he croaked and mopped his forehead again. “He said – well that a Muggleborn couldn’t marry into the Malfoy family.”   
Hermione’s nostrils flared. “He said that did he?”   
“Yes, I don’t hold with those sorts of thoughts myself however, I was rather in need –”  
“Yes, thank you for your honesty.”   
Hermione rose. With a crack she Disapparated.


	9. Chapter 9

Important! I messed up last chapter and I forgot Ginny was pregnant so she was drinking something non-alcoholic, lol. And in an earlier chapter she said this baby was her first and it is in a way because her and Harry adopted Teddy and the other baby boy after the war. So sorry about any confusion! 

Draco had not gone into training today. Hermione had left this morning for work at the Ministry. Instead of training, he had gone home to his house in England.   
A decision, he was regretting as he had more than a twenty letters, all from people telling him Hermione would be better off without him. There were those that still believed she might be under the Imperius Curse or that it was a love potion. The common denominator between them all was that she was too good for him and that he ought to piss off. The worst of it, was the three howlers he had received.   
The third of, which was about to explode.   
“FOR SHAME! A DEATH EATER! TO DO SUCH A THING TO HERMIONE GRANGER! WHAT’S IN IT FOR YOU! LET THE WOMAN REUNITE WITH HER HUSBAND! YOU-KNOW-WHO’S LACKEY! YOU SHOULD BE IN AZKABAN! YOU AND YOUR WHOLE FAMILY!”   
The magically magnified voice disappeared. Draco sighed. He popped a bottle of alcohol and guzzled half of it. He sighed and put his head on the kitchen table. He put his hands on his head and thought about jumping from the roof.   
A fourth howler was dropped on the table by an owl.   
“YOU’RE SCUM! YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED AT THE BATTLE OF HOGWARTS!”   
Between this and the article, he was liable to explode. Then there was the Ministry inquiry regarding his relationship with Hermione…that was certainly going to make her rethink her choices, he was not certain she would risk that for him. She neither loved him or could possibly hate Weasley that much.   
With a loud crack, his father Apparated in. Draco groaned. This really did complete a perfect day.   
“What do you want?” he demanded.   
His father’s wand had been snapped in two and since then, he rarely ventured from Malfoy Manor. If he had come all this way there was a good chance, he had something to say.   
“Your mother tells me you are engaged to that Mudblood girl from Hogwarts.”   
Draco grit his teeth. He hissed between clenched teeth. “Don’t call her that!”   
Lucius looked surprised and his expression turned into a sneer. “It’s true then. You have feelings for her,” he snarled. “I didn’t believe your mother when she tried to convince me it was for the best and you cared for her. However, I have taken measures to ensure this is set right.”  
It all clicked into place then. The Ministry interference, it had been his father. He had circumvented his mother. Likely offering more gold or perhaps simply, blackmailing the man into submission. Lucius Malfoy might be a shadow of his former self, but he had not forgotten his old tricks it would appear.   
Draco laughed and it was cruel.   
“What are you laughing at? You were this close to becoming a blood traitor aided and abetted by your mother while I alone ensured the reputation of our family.”  
“You still don’t understand, do you? Are you so blinded by your own arrogance you can’t see the writing on the wall?”   
“That you have completely lost your faculties! I have and don’t think I haven’t tried to have you committed to St Mungo’s along with your mother!”  
Draco blanched. “YOU TRIED TO DO WHAT?” in an instant, his wand was out and aimed at his father.   
Lucius’ lip curled back into a snarl. “Apparently, mixing blood with Mudbloods is not cause for insanity.”   
“If there is anyone, who is insane, it’s you. You and everyone with these Pureblood delusions of grandeur. Hermione is a talented witch, more so than any I’ve met and more to the point, I do fancy her. Have for a long time and neither want nor need your approval. Now get out of my house before I forcibly remove you.”   
“You’ll regret this, Draco. I am ashamed to call myself your father.”  
“Then don’t as I’m ashamed to have a father like you. I am marrying Hermione whether you like it or not.”   
“I swear on my family name that I will see to it that this sham of a marriage to the Mudblood never happens.”   
Lucius swept the cloak of his robe dramatically, no doubt about to make an exit.   
“One more thing, father before you go,” Draco said with a malicious smirk. “Call her Mudblood again and I’ll kill you.” His hand twitched to hex his father. And he gave in to the urge. He waved his wand and called out. “Ascendio.”  
Lucius soared through the air. He hung there suspended and Draco released the spell, letting him fall straight into the floor. He landed with a crash that made Draco smirk.   
Lucius paled and rose to his feet, but Disapparated as if nothing had happened.   
Rage and despair mingled within Draco.   
How could he have once hero worshipped his father?   
Worse still, was the knowledge that he would never be free. Free of his rage, his family’s background or the darkness that so clearly still resided within him. He had thought his dark side was gone, but as he had just seen for himself, it was still there.   
Disgust and shame mingling, he slammed his fist against the wall. There was a small dent in the wall and his knuckles tore open. He slammed his fist into again and again until he lost track of time or the tears that had begun to stream down his face. From physical pain or the weight he carried inside of him, he had no idea.   
XXXX  
Hermione did not Apparate directly into Draco’s house. Last time, she had been too upset to realize how rude it was. Instead, she appeared on his doorstep. She rang the doorbell and Mapsey the house elf opened the door. She was dressed in an impeccable navy blue dress, but her expression was troubled.   
“Mister Malfoy is –” Mapsey shook her head. “I can’ts say, but I is happy you are here Miss Hermione.”   
Before Hermione could fully process what the elf had said or ask any questions, Mapsey took her hand. She dragged her into the kitchen where Hermione was shocked see Draco pounding the wall with his fists.   
Mapsey disappeared quickly leaving Hermione to sort this out. Steeling herself, she cleared her throat.   
“Draco.”  
He stopped what he was doing and turned to stare at her. His expression was horrified.   
“I’m – I wasn’t expecting you.”   
He cracked his knuckles, flexing them and looked down. It looked like it was the first time he saw the blood on his hands. He paled even further, which was quite something as he was paler than usual to begin with. He seemed to glow in the sunlight.   
“What the hell do you think you are doing?” she snapped and tapped her foot impatiently.   
“I –” words seemed to fail him. He cast a forlorn glance at the kitchen table. It was littered with letters.   
Briskly, Hermione marched over. She flipped through the letters, getting the gist of it. Hate mail. Just as efficiently, she proceeded to dump all of them in the trash.   
“There,” she clapped her hands as if brushing away the filth. “That’s better. Sit,” she ordered pointing to a nearby chair.  
Draco was still watching her curiously. But he made no remarks or argument, he sat down. She pulled out the basic medical supplies she kept in her purse. It was the same spell she had used during the war.   
She found some essence of Myrtlap and began to dab them on the cuts on his hands.   
“I suppose it’s a good thing I came to check on you. Are you going to tell me what’s wrong? I can only assume after all this time a few letters were not enough to provoke such a reaction unless this is how you cope with other people’s stupidity?” her tone of voice was irritable and she looked up at him with an expectant look on her face.   
“Generally no,” he said with a wan smile. Hermione was taken aback by her own relief at seeing his smile. “My father paid me a visit.”   
Hermione was being gentler now as she carefully applied the Myrtlap in layers. The thicker it was the better.   
“I am not surprised. He was the one that tampered with our results.”   
“Oh,” Draco sighed and closed his eyes. “I can’t – I –” he took a deep breath. “I hate seeing him. It makes me sick to my stomach to think I ever wanted to be like him.”   
“You were a child,” she murmured. “It’s perfectly normal to idolize one’s parents. I wanted to be a dentist.”   
“What’s a dentist?”   
Hermione was determined not be distracted. She discovered that at some point without her noticing, she had stopped applying Myrtlap. Instead, she was holding both his hands in hers. She looked up at him and his grey eyes were distant, far away. She had an idea what he was thinking.   
“What matters is that you aren’t like him now. You grew up, you saw the error of your ways and you changed, Draco. Don’t you know how rare that is? People rarely change and you did. You – I hardly recognize you.”   
His smile grew more pronounced now and faltered just as quickly.   
“He threatened us – you and I can’t – I can’t put you in danger.”   
“I’ve been in danger before and I daresay I will be again. As for your father, he is wandless. What could he possibly do?”   
Draco pulled her onto his lap. His arms engulfed her and he hugged her so tight, she felt certain he never wanted to let her go.   
“I don’t know and that’s what worries me. If he threatened me – well that’s one thing. However, you did not sign on for this sort of family drama.”  
“And you didn’t sign on to get your name dragged through the mud in the Prophet,” Hermione told him firmly.   
Without thinking, she brushed his long hair off his face. Draco’s hair was soft and she was careful to touch him only lightly. They were after all, simply friends.  
“I don’t mind so much, it’s the hate mail I don’t like.”   
“We’ll speak to Harry and have the Aurors sort through our post,” she said contemplating the letters. “I don’t fancy the idea of receiving howlers myself nor of some other artifacts that could be sent our way through the post.”   
Draco looked thoughtful as well. “That had occurred to me as well. There are various potions that are virtually undetectably, not to mention cursed objects.”   
“Yes, I forgot,” she smiled, but it was tense. “This is sort of your area of expertise, is it not?”   
“It is,” he shrugged. “I was raised by a dark wizard after all. I was bound to learn a thing or two.”   
“Yes, I suppose you were,” Hermione said and her disapproval of Lucius Malfoy colored her voice heavily. “That filthy, loathsome prat,” she shook her head.   
Draco chuckled. “You know, I rather agree with you.”   
Hermione snorted.  
“Did you receive a note regarding the Ministry inquiry?”   
“I did,” he nodded. “What do you think? I’m willing to face the Wizengamot’s inquiries if you are.”   
“I am,” Hermione agreed readily. She thought about Ron and the thought of being forced into this marriage to him, it was absurd. “Besides, if push comes to shove, we use what we have learned about the falsified results to our advantages.”   
“Then it is agreed. I think I rather fancy a drink of something stronger, what do you say, Granger?” Draco asked slipping into old habits.   
She checked the time. Still had two more hours before she needed to get back to work. Mr Diggory had been generous and given her additional time to handle this new disaster in the press. He perfectly understood these accusations needed to be dealt with.   
“Oh, I suppose one can’t hurt, but then we need to report to the Aurors to clear your reputation. Harry wants to do a full report and investigation into Ron’s accusations. That way, he can’t continue to make them without landing himself in trouble with the law for slander.”   
“Today?” Draco looked surprised.   
“Sometimes, it’s beneficial to be friends with Harry Potter,” she told him with a mischievous smile.   
“You liked him even when he was unpopular at school,” he snorted in amusement. “I suppose that loyalty ought to pay off.”  
“Honestly, Draco,” she shook her head.   
Determined to return things to friendship, Hermione got to her feet. Draco rose to his feet as well and led her to the living room. He conjured a decanter of sherry and two glasses. He filled them and levitated hers to her.   
She sat down on the sofa and had a sip. It was delicious. Draco sat down next to her and closed his eyes as he leaned back against the sofa. He looked ready to collapse. She couldn’t say she was far behind with the day she was having.   
If it wasn’t Ron causing trouble for them, it was apparently his father.   
They lapsed into silence as they drank the sherry. It wasn’t an uncomfortable pressing silence, it was more as if they were both lost in their own thoughts. She couldn’t say what Draco was thinking about however, she for one was thinking about how relieved she was not to have to go through this alone. She couldn’t imagine Ron would be any easier to deal with if she were single.  
Draco put his arm around her shoulder and she hardly noticed. She was so lost in thought, she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder without being consciously aware of it. His hand went to her hair, stroking it. It felt nice and she turned her face into the crook of his neck. She was aware she might be making a mistake that this was pushing things beyond the realm of friendship, but with everything else that was going on, she could not bring herself to care. It felt too good to have someone in her corner.   
With a start, Hermione realized how long she had felt alone. She had her friends and even Mrs Weasley, but it was not the same as having a boyfriend or a husband. Ron had left long before the affair and it was a shock to realize, the sort of intimacy she had with Draco in this moment was something she hadn’t felt in years. It was both wonderful and terrifying because it could all come crashing down so easily.  
Draco rested his head on hers and she heard him emit a content sigh.  
“It was nice of you to check on me,” he murmured. It was spoken so quietly, she thought for a moment, she must have misheard him.   
“It’s the least I could do,” Hermione said as she snuggled against his side.   
Draco pulled her closer. She curled against his side and when she looked up at him, she saw he was already looking down at her. He touched his forehead to hers, his hand cupping the back of her neck. The closeness, it made her freeze in place. Their lips were so close together it was as if they were exchanging breath.   
“I appreciate it,” he whispered, his breath fanned her face and she shivered.   
Feeling her shiver, Draco wrapped his arms securely around her. yet he didn’t do anything else, didn’t push for more. It was as if he was waiting for her to make the first move, to cross that line from friends to something more. And after the way she reacted last time he kissed her, she could hardly fault him.   
Spurred on maybe by the sherry or the events of the day, Hermione closed the miniscule distance between them. She felt Draco’s smirk and she moved away to shoot him an exasperated look.   
“You just have to ruin the moment by smirking, don’t you?”   
Draco chuckled. “Couldn’t help myself as that went a fair bit better than the last time I kissed you, wouldn’t you agree?”   
“Honestly,” she huffed feeling herself grow too hot. “If that’s how you’re going to be, I’ll just have to refrain from kissing you in the future. It shouldn’t be too hard.”   
She started to move away when Draco brought her back to him.   
“Oh, no you don’t.”   
He lifted her onto his lap so that she was straddling him. She let out a squeak of surprise, which turned to laughter when she saw the twinkle in his eye. He pressed his lips to hers and the laughter died. Suddenly, there was nothing funny about the situation at all. Heat flared up in her and she gasped in surprise.   
Draco took advantage of that gasp to deepen the kiss. It was a passionate, hard kiss that stole her breath away and spread heat all through her until her core ached. His hands dug into her hips and pressed her more firmly against him. She could feel his growing hardness and she grew damp in response.   
His hand trailed from her hip and down her thigh. He stroked her leg and slid his hand slowly back up toward her knee. His rough and calloused palm was touching her bare skin underneath her robes. She blushed.   
She broke away from the kiss and threw her head back. His other hand clutched her hair, pulling her head back and exposing her throat to him. He placed hot, open-mouthed kisses along her neck.   
His fingers traced teasing patterns on her inner thigh that excited her. His touch was electric and a soft moan escaped her.  
“You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he whispered to her. His voice was husky and she shivered in anticipation because his words held a wicked promise.  
His hand went higher, his fingers caressed her core outside of her panties. She flushed and heat coursed through her. She stifled a rough moan. Her hands tangled into his hair and she pulled his lips to hers. The kiss was slower now, but no less passionate.   
Fire raged through her body and as Draco’s hand grew more insistent, she felt herself start to spiral out of control. The loss of control sent her crashing back to reality. Gasping for breath, she pulled away.   
“I think we should stop,” she said even as his touch drove her wild.   
Instantly, his hand moved away. He looked at her and his eyes were hazy with lust. A feeling she felt sure was mirrored in her own expression.   
“Probably,” he agreed in a rough voice.   
That voice made her blush further. It did things to her, coiled her insides and made her want to kiss him again.   
“I’m still – the divorce wasn’t easy and I think we should take things slow. If we aren’t careful things could get messy fast and I don’t think either of us wants that.”   
“No, I think that would be unwise.”   
He played with her hair. Twirling a lock of her hair around his finger.   
“And we should probably get to the Aurors office.”   
He sighed and put his head on her shoulder. It was a dramatic gesture that made her laugh. She ran her hands through his silky hair and smiled. If she wasn’t careful, Draco was going to unravel her.  
They got up, straightened their clothes. Then in the next moment they Apparated to the Ministry. They arrived in the Aurors department.   
Harry was not at his desk, instead he was with Tom. Tom, saw her, grinned and waved. He loped over and grinned.   
“How about that drink, ‘Mione?”   
“No, thank you,” she said curtly.   
“Yeah, no thank you,” Draco agreed in an arrogant drawl. “I presume you were inviting me as well?”   
Tom stared at him and Hermione had to admit, Draco’s level of cheek could perhaps rival Harry’s.   
“Thanks, Tom. We can discuss your report later,” Harry said joining them.   
He looked between Tom and Draco, there was amusement in his eyes. Hermione longed for the days when they were awkward teenagers and Harry was not comfortable prying into her love life. Those had been the days.   
Tom left looking sullen.   
“Honestly, I was standing right here,” Draco muttered.   
Hermione rolled her eyes. Right now, a girl’s trip sounded like heaven.   
“Right, come on my office is this way.”  
Harry’s office was the only one with a door. He closed it and sat down. Hermione saw he looked tired.   
“There has to be something to be done about Ron.”   
“Ordinarily, my department wouldn’t handle this, but since you are friends and this is causing a stir in the papers, I convinced the Ministry to let me handle it,” Harry said with a faint smile. “Anyway, I have an antidote to love potions here.”   
Harry pulled out a vial with clear liquid in it from his desk drawer.   
“Thank you,” Hermione said.   
She took the vial from him and downed its contents.   
“That shouldn’t take more than a few seconds to take effect,” Draco said. “If you have brewed that wrong, Potter I’ll –”  
Harry snorted. “Like I would risk putting Hermione in danger! I got it from St Mungo’s just to be safe.”   
“Good,” Draco settled back down.   
“I feel fine,” Hermione said.   
She knew if she had not been given a love potion, the antidote would have no affect on her whatsoever.   
“Right – err,” Harry looked discomfited. “Now, I’ll just ask you a few questions and that should prove you aren’t under a love spell. They might be a bit personal.”   
He picked up a piece of paper. Turning red, he skimmed the list.   
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! Just spit it out,” Hermione said waspishly.   
“Right – err,” Harry cleared his throat. “Are you in love with Draco Malfoy?”   
“No, and I’ve never been. Honestly,” she huffed.   
Next to her, Draco chuckled.   
“Do you still want to marry him?”  
“Yes, of course I do. I’ve said so repeatedly.”   
“And I’d like to marry you,” Draco told her. He turned to wink at her.   
Hermione ignored him ignored him as a heated blush crept up her cheeks.   
“And you two are –” Harry threw the paper down. “I’m not asking you these questions. They only get worse.”   
Hermione snatched the list from him. The personal questions were more personal than she had imagined and she felt herself grow uncomfortably hot reading them. A sensation, which only worsened when Draco started to read over her shoulder. 

Standard Inquiries to Determine if a Love Potion Has been Removed/Was Never in affect

1\. Are you in love with (subject of desire’s name)?   
2\. Do you still want to be in a relationship with him/her?  
3\. How far as this relationship progressed emotionally?  
4\. How far has it progressed physically?   
5\. Do you feel a mad desire or genuine feelings?   
6\. Has all the physical activity so far been consensual and without the interference of alcohol or love potion? 

“These questions are ludicrous,” Draco scoffed. “The first and second should suffice after the administration of the potion.”   
Hermione nodded her head in agreement. “It looks to me as if whoever wrote this is simply nosy.”   
“Yeah, I don’t much see the point of prying,” Harry said still read. “Anyway, the next step now is to officially inform Ron there has been no foul play. We don’t ordinarily discuss these matters with reporters, but since Ron has made this a public issue, I will do that as well. Finally, if you want, we can file for a restraining order.”   
“Yes,” Draco said immediately. He glanced at Hermione belatedly as if realizing she might not agree with him.   
“I don’t like to do it,” she exhaled heavily. “But I think Ron has had enough chances to come to his senses.”   
“He’s my best mate and I don’t like to take sides when you two quarrel, you know,” Harry said slowly, but with a determination she was familiar with. “Still, I think it might be best. They are only in effect for a few months at a time and if he takes it seriously, you might not have to have it renewed.”   
“It’ll just be a wake up call for him,” Draco told her gently.   
“Very well, let’s do that then.”   
XXX  
It felt like hours later even though Hermione knew it wasn’t when she returned to Draco’s. she was having dinner with him and his mother. She wasn’t sure if Lucius would be there or not, but she hoped he wasn’t.   
She had worn a pale blue dress. It reached the floor and hugged her figure yet it revealed nothing. It had short capped sleeves and a high neck. She tugged uncomfortably on it and cursed Pansy for letting her talk her into this dress.   
Feeling tentative, Hermione knocked on the door.  
After a moment, Mapsy opened. She bobbed a curtsy and beamed when she saw Hermione.   
“Miss Hermione must come in, come in. Mapsy is so happy to sees you.”   
“Thank you Mapsy, I’m happy to see you too,” Hermione said smiling. “How are you?”   
“Fine, thanks you. Yous very kind to ask.”   
“Not at all.”   
Mapsey lead her to a part of the house she had never been to. There was a dining room with an attached drawing room. Draco was having a drink there with his mother. When they saw her, they both smiled.   
“Hermione how lovely to see you again,” Narcissa said with a smile that was almost warm.   
Draco got to his feet. He caught her off guard by smiling and hugging her. Shocked, she hugged him back and drew away with a blush. She was all too aware of Narcissa studying the two of them.   
Looking at Narcissa reminded her of Lucius and what he had done. For a moment, a wild fury filled her and she had to take several deep breaths to calm herself down. To think that Lucius Malfoy could be so prejudiced and bigotted was one thing, but to take things so far – to interfere with the Ministry? Hadn’t Lucius nearly ended up in Azkaban enough times? Because Hermione felt sure with the repopulation efforts the Ministry were so damned concerned with what Lucius had done would be considered a serious violation of Magical Law.   
The repopulation efforts – it wasn’t something Hermione had given a lot of thought to. She knew that in the years past there had been a string of articles in the Prophet where the writers argued for marrying Muggles and she wondered if the decline in population had something to do with those. It wouldn’t be the first time the Ministry had interfered with what news they released and what they suppressed.   
Draco showed Hermione to the chair next to her and used his wand to fill her a glass of sherry and levitate it to her. She accepted it and had a sip. It was warm and seemed to dull some of the hatred and disgust she felt toward Lucius.   
Come to think of it, had Draco told his mother what Lucius had done? Now that she felt a whole lot more favorable toward Narcissa, who had been trying to force her and Draco together.   
“You know, dear you look a bit peaky, are you alright, Hermione?” Narcissa prodded in a gentle voice and with concerned look.   
“I’m fine,” she said straightening up. She had another sip of sherry.   
Why had she agreed to this dinner again?   
Draco took her hand, he gave it a squeeze and laced their fingers together. Warmth filled her. Right, she had agreed because it was important to Draco. He loved his parents even if they were flawed.   
“You know mother,” Draco drawled and gave his mother a sharp look. “We won’t tolerate any more interference from you or father. Any further interference or meddling behind our backs and I’ll sever ties with you.”   
“You wouldn’t dare,” Narcissa hissed. “You still returned home after the war, but you threaten our family for one girl?”   
Draco smiled, it was both beautiful and cold. Hermione realized then, he was not evil, but he was still Malfoy. In a way, it was almost comforting to learn he hadn’t changed completely.   
“Make no mistake mother, I am doing this as much for myself as I am Hermione. I’ve long since grown tired being a puppet. I wouldn’t do it for Voldemort and I won’t be a chess piece in your war with father.”   
“It’s not a war,” Narcissa sniffed delicately. She looked offended. “It’s simply a disagreement about how to improve our family’s standings. And why do you keep bringing him up? What does Lucius have to do with my actions?”   
“You don’t know,” Hermione said caught off guard.   
Narcissa cold replied had led her to believe, Narcissa was aware of Lucius’ latest game.   
“Know what?”   
A loud crack interrupted before either of them could explain. In the middle of the drawing room stood Lucius Malfoy. He was a cold and terrifying as he was in Hermione’s nightmares. His long blonde hair was smattered with grey now and deep lines marred his face, his shoulders were more hunched, but there was a fire in his eyes. A stubbornness that was unwilling to die.   
Subconsciously, Hermione clung tighter to Draco’s hands. She hadn’t seen Lucius since he fled Hogwarts, disgraced however, her most vivid memory was of how he had stood by as Bellatrix tortured her. Bellatrix had been alight with pleasure as she worked yet somehow, Lucius’ cold indifference as if torturing her were no more than a dull chore was worse. Indifference was often more powerful than hatred.   
“Good evening,” his voice was cool and arrogant. Somehow, Lucius managed to fill two words with more arrogance than Hermione had thought possible. “I’m sorry, I got held up at the Ministry.”   
“Under investigation for interference with the Marriage Law are you?” Draco suggested in silky tones.   
“No,” Lucius raised his chin. “I was merely discussing some matters with an old friend of mine.”   
“When did you learn to Apparate without a wand?” Narcissa said. Her eyes narrowed as she appraised her husband.   
“I have my ways.”   
Hermione started to think, there were countless ways a wizard could do such a thing. However, for some reason her mind kept coming back to house elves. Had Lucius asked them about their magic or did he consider them far too low for such a thing?   
“Did you receive the owl stating you were no longer welcome in my home?” Draco asked.   
Hermione felt bolstered by his loyalty.   
“Yes, and as you are my son I promptly ignored it. Perhaps you require another lesson of filial loyalty?”   
“Or perhaps you need to leave before I make you?”   
Draco rose to his feet. He was still holding Hermione’s hand. She saw that his other hand went to his wand and she pulled him back down into his seat. He went, but not before meeting her eyes. Whatever he saw in them must have convinced him because he didn’t resist.   
“Lucius, Draco, come now,” Narcissa clucked. “You are family and I am certain we can have a rational discuss about this.”   
“Not with her present,” Lucius replied immediately.   
His gaze flitted to her before disappearing. There it was again, that same arrogance and indifference that implied she was less than a human being, not a person.   
“Then you can leave,” Draco said. ”Because I’m marrying Hermione and if you don’t like it, you don’t need to watch.”   
“Lucius, come now. I know, it’s stooping low to marry a Muggleborn, but think of how it will look. We will once again be a powerful, influential family, regarded highly by the wizarding community.”   
“Excuse me?” Hermione snapped. “Stooping low?”   
“Yes, well you aren’t even half-blood,” Narcissa said patiently. “We’ll be bloodtraitors, but luckily your skill and talent surpass most full-blooded witches. That certainly makes up for it.”   
Hermione felt herself start to crack. “Or perhaps I stole a wand and someone else’s talent? That’s what your lot thinks, right?” she said shrilly.  
What had happened to Narcissa’s acceptance of Muggleborns the last time they had met? As Hermione realized what had happened, she felt as if she had been doused in ice water. Narcissa had simply been pretending to accept Muggleborns because she wanted this marriage for political reasons.   
“Hermione -” Draco said speaking slowly and in an undertone.   
But she wasn’t interested. “If you will excuse me. I think I’ve lost my appetite.”   
She reached for her wand and conjured several yellow birds. Then she enchanted them to attack Lucius and Narcissa. She took a moment to savor their shocked expression before Disapparating.   
Her house felt oddly empty when she returned. She sat down and looked at the photographs of her and her parents on the mantle. The sight of them made her want to cry. She should have gone back for them before, but she had been scared of reversing the memory charms. After the war, she had seen the effects when the healers tried to reverse memory charms placed on people by Death Eaters. They were horrible. Some lost all of their memories entirely. As much as she wanted her parents back, she was terrified of making a mistake and landing them in St Mungo’s for the rest of their day like Gilderoy Lockhart.   
Instead, she summoned a glass of Firewhisky and sat down on the couch. She drank and indulged in a good cry. It wasn’t something she normally did.   
And she should have known Narcissa would say something of that nature. She knew Narcissa still had her prejudices towards Muggles, but she had hoped she had made some improvements towards Muggleborns, especially since she approved of the marriage. But that was foolish.   
Worse still, was how calm Draco had been. He had been furious with his father, but as Draco said, this marriage benefitted him as much as it did her. What a terrible situation to be in truly.   
Her earlier imaginings that Draco was starting to care for her, must have been just that, imaginings. This was beneficial to him, now he didn’t have to marry Daphne. Instead, he could have an arrangement with someone, who wouldn’t expect more of him. Unfortunately, she had been foolish enough to trust him, to lean on him and now they had kissed.   
Well that would all have to stop, wouldn’t it?   
She might be lonely having been married to Ron. It might have shaken her ability to trust and even to an extent, shaken her faith and confidence, but she was going to get that back.   
Starting, by returning to friendship alone with Draco. She was sure, when she thought about it that he would find it preferable as well.   
XXX   
Draco was both furious and fed up with his family. These were two conflicting emotions that warred inside of him, trying to bait him into making a decision. Instead, he stood trapped between those two conflicting emotions as he watched his parents bicker.  
Narcissa had removed the birds with a flick of her wand. But still, it was impressive magic and Draco wondered what other little spells Hermione could perform on pure instinct because that had been incredible. He would cherish the memory of his father running from those yellow birds.   
“Honestly, Lucius do you have any idea what you have done?” Narcissa snapped.   
“What I have done?” Lucius exclaimed. “You’re the one suggesting he marry a Mudblood.”   
“Not just any Muggleborn, Hermione Granger.”   
“Even worse! Bellatrix, your sister nearly murdered her during the war.”   
“Yes, but our son helped save her!” Narcissa argued. “Lucius, don’t you see? Our family has fallen from grace, but if Draco marries Granger it will show those that doubt us that we have changed. We will rise once again to our former glory.”   
Draco felt a buzzing start to build in his head. He had heard this trite spiel from his mother on more than one occasion in the past. He wasn’t particularly interested in hearing it again yet somehow, he could not make himself do anything.   
“Do not be absurd, Narcissa! A Mudblood marry our son, have you gone mad?”   
“How is this any different from the lengths you were willing to go to during the war to restore our reputation with the dark lord?”   
“Precisely because he was the dark lord.”   
Finally, something inside of Draco snapped and he knew what to say.   
“ENOUGH!”   
Both of his parents turned to stare at them in surprise.   
“Draco,” Narcissa said in disapproving tones.   
“You will not speak to me in that manner, I am still your father,” Lucius said.   
Draco groaned, it was more of the same paltry crap, his father kept repeating whenever Draco displeased him. Except Draco had long since tired of it. He would have hexed his father except to hex a wandless warlock was an act of cowardice he was unwilling to commit.   
“Yes, you are my father and you disgust me. I've never seen a more wretched excuse for a man than you, father,” Draco sneered. He looked at Lucius with all of the disdain he felt. “As for you mother, I grow weary in your attempts to use me as a political pawn. I am not and my relationship with Hermione is not either of your concern.”   
“Draco I understand your reaction to your father, but honestly, I’ve your best interests at heart.”   
“No, you want to further our family as usual. Let me remind you, the only reason you have gotten as far as you have with this plan is simply because I happen to want what you want. However, I do not want it for the same reason and do not deceive yourself into thinking I do.”   
“Well then Draco, it would seem we have reached an impasse,” Narcissa said coldly. “I will however, congratulate you on your marriage to Ms Granger once more. She is a wise choice and I could not before happier that things finally worked out between the two of you.”   
“Thank you, mother.”   
“Lucius, come along. I see no reason for anyone to listen to your outdated views any longer. You have no power, not since the Ministry snapped your wand. A concept you should be familiar with as the dark lord did the same to you.”   
Lucius turned a nasty shade of red. He looked liable to explode before he Disapparated. Narcissa watched him go with narrowed eyes.   
“It worries me that Lucius is Apparating without a wand.”   
“Me as well,” Draco agreed. “Do you suppose he is up to his old tricks?”   
“You mean bribing the Ministry and manipulating the powerful to dance to his tune? Then yes,” Narcissa agreed. “But to what end?”   
“I daresay to ensure I marry a Pureblood.”   
“Yes, well let me handle your father. You simply need to make certain your marriage doesn’t implode before it begins.”   
“Yes.”   
Draco Disapparated.   
XXX   
There was a knock on her door, Hermione glanced at it suspiciously. She figured it was Draco and she internally debated whether or not she willing to answer it. Finally, she decided she might as well hear him out.   
Draco flashed a wan smile. It had been less than an hour since she last saw him yet he looked exhausted.   
“What are you doing here? Come to make excuses on behalf of your parents?”   
“No.”   
“Then perhaps you’ve come to make excuses for why you didn’t stand up for me?”   
“No,” he stated with that same flat certainty as before. “And if you had stayed for a little while longer, you would have seen that for yourself.”   
“Oh,” she eyed him still wary. “I’m proud to be Muggleborn and nothing your parents say is going to change that. I will not pretend otherwise. Can you live with that and can you live with their disapproval?” she crossed her arms and waited for his answer.   
The truth was, she was disappointed in him. He hadn’t been as quick to defend her today as he had been in the past. She was ashamed because she had grown used to Draco standing up for her. Being as quick to stand up for her as she was to him. She was ashamed because she had promised herself, she wasn’t going to lean on him. That she wasn’t going to depend on him the way she had done Ron in case something went wrong. Yet that was exactly what she did. And tonight he had let her down.   
“For the last time Hermione, I don’t care if you’re Muggleborn, Pureblood or Half-blood, it really doesn’t make a difference to me,” he exclaimed.   
“Do you mean that?”   
“Yes!”   
“And your parents?”   
“My father is a stubborn old fool, but I don’t see why I should care what he thinks now, when I haven’t cared for the past six years. As for my mother, she has a long way to go yet she approves.”   
“Does she really?”   
“Really,” he nodded. “Now would you stop acting as if I am going to disappoint you the way the Ron did?”   
How did he know that? She had certainly never told him about her concerns. So how could he know?   
“Draco - I never said.”   
He shrugged. “It was rather obvious what with Weasley’s indiscretions.”   
“You don’t know how I feel.”   
He smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Knock it off, Hermione,” he rolled his eyes. “We both know we are past lying to each other and pretending as if we are mere acquaintances. I’m not Weasley, we may as well acknowledge that’s why you truly ran away tonight.”   
“Maybe it is, but I’m not Daphne. I won’t smile politely and have dinner with your father.”   
“Neither will I. It’s not as if I have been overly fond of him in a long time. The only reason I invited him was mother and when I learned what he had done, I retracted his invitation.”   
“Oh. Yet you still expect me to associate with your mother?”   
“Well, yes, I'd greatly appreciate it if the two of you could at least make an effort to be on good terms.”   
“And if she can’t stop offending Muggles or Muggleborns?”   
“Then I suppose I'll choose you.”   
Hermione felt stunned. She was certain she could be knocked over by a feather.   
“You - you would do that for me?”   
“Yes, I thought we had already decided, we are in this together.”   
“We are,” she said after surveying him for several minutes. “Then I suppose you had better come inside.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has commented, bookmarked, given kudos and read this fic! What was your favorite part? What did you think of the draco x hermione moment on the couch? And what do you think Lucius is up to? I'm fireismyelement97 on tumblr if you want to leave an ask for a kennett or bonkai drabble.   
> \- Izzy


	10. Chapter 10

Ron was having an afternoon cup of coffee with a generous dollop of Firewhisky. He was supposed to go to practice today and if he was going to back after the loss the Cannons took this weekend, he wasn't sure he was able to do it sober.   
An owl swooped through the window. He didn't recognize it and that was odd. Just as odd as it was to be getting strange mail in the middle of the afternoon. The grey owl landed gracefully on the table. He held out his leg with his envelope. Ron detached it and gave the owl a piece of toast.   
He should eat something, he knew that.   
He unfolded the letter and had to reread it about four times before it sunk in. Hermione and Malfoy had filed a restraining order. What the bloody hell was this? The restraining order came with an explicit order against speaking to the press and informing him that both the Prophet and Witch Weekly would be running a retraction - with or without a statement from him.   
Well they could fucking well forget that! Ron thought viciously.   
He threw the plate against the wall and enjoyed how it shattered. He started throwing hexes around wildly.   
"BOMBARDA!" he blew up all of the cabinets.   
He kept throwing hexes and spells around until the kitchen was in smithereens. He was gasping for breath and he felt as if he had run a mile. He downed what was left in the botte of Firewhisky.   
So that slag thought she could shack up with a Death Eater and file a restraining order against him? Well he was going to teach her. Just as soon as this restraining order was out of effect. He knew something he was fairly certain Hermione didn't about the Wizarding world.   
Restraining orders only lasted a few months and had to be refiled on the date they expired, which left a few hours in which, Ron could get to her. He also knew there was a good chance Malfoy he would be out of town on a match that day. He double-checked the calendar.   
Yes, Hermione would be all alone that day.   
He grinned and polished off his coffee and Firewhiskey.   
XXX  
Hermione decided she had gone mad at last when she invited Draco inside of her home. This was different than any of the other times they had been in each other’s homes. After all, acknowledging that they were committed to each other, no matter what the consequences might be – it changed things. She wondered how long Draco had been waiting for this, how long he had been willing to put everything on the line for her, including his relationship with his mother and what remained of his relationship to his father.   
“Did you eat dinner?”  
“No, did you?”   
Hermione shook her head. She got out the several pamphlets she had on takeout from the Muggle world. Draco picked one up and surveyed it, curiously.   
“Take-out, I’ve heard of that. A mate of mine tried to get it going in the Wizarding world,” he said looking over the pamphlet.   
“Yes, it’s one of those Muggle things I’m attached to. My parents and I used to do it on the weekend.”   
There wasn’t much need for take-out in the Wizarding. Though many witches and wizards enjoyed restaurants during travel or for the social aspect, take-out was something else. A simple transfiguration, conjuring or cooking spell for the food to prepare itself suited the needs of even the laziest wizard.   
“Fascinating. You simply use the fellyphone –”  
“Telephone,” Hermione corrected patiently.   
“And they deliver whatever you want?”  
“As long as it’s on the menu yes.”   
“Huh,” he looked at the pamphlets for a little while longer. “I don’t know, Hermione. I think house elves are still more efficient.”   
She rolled her eyes. “Well yes, of course they are. But Muggles don’t know about house elves, remember?”  
“Right. Must be dull.”   
“How can it be? It’s not as if they know what is missing.”   
Draco chuckled. “Suppose not.”   
They settled on Chinese. Hermione called and ordered. Draco watched her, fascinated with her use of the telephone.   
“You know, according to the Ministry, you really shouldn’t be using Muggle technology.”   
“I know, but my phone I’m not willing to part with. It’s practical.”   
“Who do you call? I suppose all your friends are wizards.”  
“Yes, well I ring Harry sometimes,” she explained.  
Draco nodded as if this made sense.   
They played cards while they waited for their dinner to arrive. When it did come, Hermione paid with Muggle money, which Draco also found fascinating. She ended up having to tell the delivery boy, he was Australian.   
“You use this at the pub all of the time.”   
“Yes, well I just hand wads of cash to the barman, I don’t actually attempt to use it,” he told her with an eyeroll.   
Hermione laughed.   
They got the food out and ate. While they ate, they continued the poker game. Wizarding poker was more complex than the Muggle version. It involved the cards screaming if you made a poor hand or if your confidence wavered, they would call your bluff for you. Hermione found it endlessly frustrating as Draco tried to teach her how to play.   
“Can I ask you a rather personal question?” Draco asked with his eyes firmly fixed on his hand.   
“I suppose.”   
“You don’t have to answer.”   
“I won’t if I don’t want to,” she agreed.   
“Why haven’t you gone back for your parents?”   
“After the war, I saw a lot of memory charms be reversed wrong. I’d rather not take that risk with them.”  
“You’re Hermione Granger,” Draco said as if that was obvious.   
“I know, who I am, do you know, who I am?”  
“I mean, I think you can handle a simple memory charm,” Draco sneered. “But if you don’t want to, by all means, carry on as you are.”  
Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “You know, you can be a real prick.”   
“Yeah, I know,” he rolled his eyes. “It’s all a part of my charm.”   
Hermione huffed and refocused her attention on the game. She felt Draco’s eyes on her throughout the next few games. She ignored him.   
“Why don’t you go find your parents? I’ll come with you, if you’d like.”   
Hermione looked up in surprise. “I’m not certain, they’ll forgive me after all this time.”   
It was another reason she had never woken them up. After all, these years, she didn’t know how they would react. She had stolen years of their lives. They had missed her wedding to Ron.   
“Of course they will,” he said as if it was a fact. “They’ll understand that you were afraid of undoing the spell just as they will understand you had to do it. Otherwise, they would have been tortured and killed.”   
“You sound so certain.”  
“Because I think I have a certain expertise in the area. I know precisely what the dark lord would have done if he had been able to locate them.”  
Hermione supposed he was right. He was meant to retrieve them.   
“I suppose so. But how do I explain they missed the wedding?”  
“Simple,” he drew two cards. “Make certain they don’t miss the next one.”   
XXX  
Hermione was still thinking about taking time off from work to go find her parents when she got into bed. So wrapped up in these thoughts she was that she hardly noticed when Draco climbed under the blankets.  
She turned to face him and closed her eyes. She was surprised, but it wasn’t an unpleasant surprise when he wrapped his arms around her. His tall frame, engulfed her in his warmth. She snuggled closer, pressing her face into his chest.  
Something was different after this morning on the couch. They had most definitely moved past the realm of friends into something more. Exactly what that something more was, she wasn't sure of, but she knew this, he would choose her over his parents. Maybe this wasn't doomed to end the way her marriage to Ron had done.   
He ran his fingers through her hair, messing it up further. She sighed and leaned into his touch.   
“Your hair is as bushy as ever,” he told her and she could hear the smile in his voice.   
“At least I’m not a ferret,” she mumbled.   
Draco laughed. “You know, that was actually rather terrifying.”   
Hermione snorted. “Then perhaps, I shouldn’t tell you that is actually one of my favorite memories from school.”   
That wasn’t exactly true, but she couldn’t resist teasing Draco.   
“Very amusing.”   
Draco put his hand underneath her chin. He tilted her face up to meet his. The kiss was soft and they both sunk into it. It was gentle and it scorched her. She ran her hands through his hair, messing it up. Grinning as she got even with him. His hands roamed down her back, settling on her bum. He squeezed and kneaded the flesh there.  
When they broke apart, they were both gasping for breath. Hermione was flushed and certain, she was scarlet. She hid her face in the crook of his neck. Draco smelled incredible. He smelt like soap and cologne, a sort of cologne that smelled like fresh air and ocean breeze. It was incredible and she sighed.   
“Taking things slow,” Draco murmured under his breath. It was so quiet, she wasn’t certain she had heard him right.   
She grinned when she realized he was reminding himself.  
XXX  
Two weeks later and Hermione waited anxiously outside of the office of the head of the Wizengamot. It should have been Kingsley however, he was considered compromised as his friendship with her was well-known. The advantage she had of course, was that Kingsley had chosen his replacement.   
She paced and wished Draco could be here with her. But his interview was in two hours. In the meantime, he had to play the Tornadoes or something like that. Hermione was so frazzled, she couldn’t remember the name of the Quidditch team. She could barely recall the name of his Quidditch team.   
Instead, she mentally recited all of the laws she knew that would work in her favor. Listing all of the Wizengamot’s probable counterarguments.  
When at last, she felt as if the nerves were about to overcome her, the door opened. A young wizard with a mop of shiny black hair peered at her over hornrimmed spectacles. For a moment, Hermione thought he could be Percy in spite of the jet black hair. Then she blinked and the illusion vanished.   
Perhaps she missed the Weasleys more than she knew.  
“Hermione Jean Granger?”  
“Yes.”   
“Come along then.”   
He led her into an office that had been magically enlarged – at least she assumed so. What should have been an ordinary sized now held six people all of whom, had their own desk. There was no chair for her, so she took out her wand and conjured one. It was a plush, comfy armchair in scarlet.  
Unceremoniously, Hermione took a seat. She sat back, breathed and mentally recited all of the reasons she was not in fact breaking the law. She also took it as a good sign that she was not being tried by the full Wizengamot nor were the members seated at their tribunal judging stools. Instead, it was all relatively informal.   
One desk however, was seated at the center and a little head of the others. Behind it, sat a wizened old wizard with navy blue wizarding hat.   
“Are you Ms Hermione Jean Granger?”  
“I am.”  
“Good, good,” he nodded and steepled his fingers together. “And it has come to the Ministry’s attention that you have been matched with a Ronald Bilius Weasley yet you are pursuing a romantic relationship with Draco Malfoy.”   
“Yes, he is my ex-husband so I think we can all agree that would be a waste of time,” Hermione said calmly. “And I am curious how it has come to the Ministry’s attention that I am involved with Draco?"   
“How do you mean?”   
“I mean, how did you find out and why were you curious about it now? Rita Skeeter has been filling the pages of both the Prophet and Witch Weekly about our relationship for weeks. So your timing seems curious."   
“So it is true then, that this relationship predates the matching?”  
“Yes,” Hermione lied making certain to keep her face serene. "Not that Skeeter has the details right."   
“I see.”  
Pages ruffled to the left of her and a small woman with vivid blonde hair and big features shuffled through her papers. She peered at them curiously before looking back up at Hermione.   
“We are aware of the media coverage. Most of us do after all subscribe to the Prophet.”   
“Then why is this inquiry needed?” Hermione asked the witch.   
“Simple enough,” she said and cleared her throat. “You were both listed as single in your employee files.”   
“Now, now,” clucked an elderly wizard to her left with an affable manner. Hermione recognized him as Rudolphus Smith. “You know as well as I, Rona most of the employees don’t bother with updating those unless there is marriage involved.”   
“Which there is now,” Hermione said speaking up. “But at the time, we were simply dating. We were becoming reacquainted, is that a crime?”  
“No, by Merlin’s underpants!” exclaimed a young wizard, who laughed. “Honestly, you stodgy old lot need to get with the times. With the articles in the Prophet there seems to be plenty of evidence to substantiate this relationship, I should think it is fairly open and shut as they say. So long as both Ms Granger and Mr Malfoy state these articles to be true.”  
“All the same,” said the head of the Wizengamot. “We cannot allow anyone to flout the rules regarding the repopulation efforts.”   
“As I have done no such thing, I think this is rather excessive, wouldn’t you say?” Hermione said coolly.   
The young wizard chuckled.   
“All the same, I will judge that for myself. We will speak with Mr Malfoy and tail you until we can determine the realness of this relationship as well as conduct interviews with your relatives.”   
There was an instant uproar at this statement.   
“Scandalous!”   
“Outrageous, I say! What basis do you have for this ruling?”  
“We must ensure the next generation!”   
“Not at any cost! What happened to encouraging marriage to Muggles?”  
“Several witches and wizards have been matched with those as well!” exclaimed the head of the Wizengamot.   
“Foolish,” stated the young wizard.   
Hermione waited until their ruckus died down. She knew jumping into the argument would not do her any good.   
Finally, the room fell silent.   
“I can assure you, you will find nothing and I will be filing a complaint. Is there anything else?”   
There was some awkard throat clearing, but they agreed she could go.   
After the meeting, Hermione quickly sent out a Patronus to her nearest and dearest, as well as Draco’s friends, informing them of the interviews and telling them not to reply, but that she and Draco had been involved since before the Magical Matchmaking. She hoped her quick thinking would be enough.   
XXX  
Draco’s team had won today’s match, but after the Inquiry on top of the game, he felt ready to pass out. He had steadfastly claimed that Hermione and he had been dating for months. It had not been a difficult lie to pull off, especially when he had been secretly daydreaming of this moment since third year.   
What he had not been expecting was to find Hermione waiting for him after his hearing. She sat outside of the room with two cups of coffee. She levitated one toward him and he accepted it gratefully. He sunk into the chair next to her and she put her arms around him.   
“You look exhausted,” she murmured.   
He had a sip of coffee and surveyed her. The dark circles under her eyes that had clung to her face whenever the glamor was not in place, were gone. Well, not entirely gone, he realized when he looked closer. Her glamour was still there and there was a sunken look to her cheeks. With a jolt, it occurred to him how truly nervewracking this Ministry hearing must be for her. She had certainly been sleeping less, tossing and turning for hours. Still, he supposed it was an improvement from the nightmares that used to torment her.   
“No more than you.”   
She snorted, unimpressed.   
“You ready to leave?”  
“Very much,” he agreed. He put his arm around her shoulder, letting his head rest on hers and sighed in complete relaxation.   
“Hang on then,” she said and he could hear the smile in her voice.   
With a crack Hermione Disapparated. He felt the familiar pressure of Apparition and in the next instant they were in Hermione’s living room. They spent a lot of time here. She almost never came to Northern Ireland. He liked to think it was because of her cat and not because it was where she felt safest. He hoped she was starting to feel that way around him, but he had this voice at the back of his mind that told him, she never would.   
Hermione curled against his side and she sighed in content. He ran his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp.   
“Can you believe they’re going to be tailing us?” he asked.   
“No, but I’ve already filed a complaint and I asked Kingsley to find out where the tip came from.”   
Draco was surpirsed. He hadn’t given it much thought, but now that she mentioned it, he supposed it was strange that they of all couples should be scrutinized. How had he missed that before?   
“Someone must have tipped them off.”  
“That’s the only explanation.”   
“Well with you on the case it’s only a matter of time before you find out. It took you all of two seconds to find out it was my father behind all of this when you set your mind to it.”   
She grinned and turned red.   
He pulled her closed and she wrapped her arms tightly around him. Her head was on his shoulder and he could feel how she was starting to unwind.  
There was a loud crack then a Ministry wizard appeared in a roar of green flames. He stepped out, coughing and brushing dust from his robes.   
“You know,” Draco drawled, he was furious, but fighting not to reveal just how angry he was. “It’s customary to give advanced noticed before popping out of someone’s fireplace. Or appearing by head only, it’s called manners you know.”   
“Manners?” the little wizard scoffed. “Are you accusing the Ministry of being ill-mannered?”  
“Not the Ministry as a whole, but you as an individual yes. I’m certain other Ministry employees have better manners.”   
“I am here at the Wizengamot’s behest, accusing me of poor manners or a lapse in my duties is the same as accusing the Ministry as a whole,” he said puffing up his chest.   
Draco rolled his eyes. This kid couldn’t be more than a year or two out of Hogwarts. He recognized the over-eager, self-importance that came with youth. They were desperate to prove themselves and high on whatever entry-level position they had acquired.  
“You don’t honestly believe that trite do you?”  
“Just because you are a Quidditch player –” he said as if it was some kind of insult. “Does not mean you can insult Ministry employees!"   
“Oh, I see,” Draco said nodding and exchanging looks of exasperation with Hermione. “Do you think I can if I am both a Ministry employee and a Quidditch player?”  
“Harumph,” he said turning a furious shade of scarlet.   
“Why are you here?”  
“This is about the observation of our relationship, isn’t it?” Hermione said heaving a sigh of complete exasperation.   
“Not now, can’t you see we are busy?” Draco complained.   
“Let me guess, if I don’t leave ‘your father will hear about this’,” the wizard said using air quotes.   
“Do I know you?” Draco asked.   
“This is private property,” Hermione said in a bossy voice.   
“Oh and if I don’t leave, let me guess the brightest witch of our age is going to show me her test results.”   
“Do we know you?” Draco repeated getting to his feet.  
“No, of course you don’t, but I certainly know the two of you,” he puffed up and glowered at the two of them. Draco felt the strong urge to shield Hermione with his body and stood in front of her. There was something nasty in the other wizards voice he didn’t like. “My name is Everett Bagshot.”   
“Bagshot as in Bathilda Bagshot?” Hermione asked leaning forward eagerly.   
“Distant relation,” he said. “And I attended Hogwarts in your year.”   
“You did? What house?” Draco asked.   
“Can’t have been Gryffindor or Slytherin and I know most of the Hufflepuffs by sight,” Hermione said. “Must be Ravenclaw.”   
“Ten points to Gryffindor,” Everett said sarcastically.   
“Are you certain? I’ve never seen you before,” Draco said taking in the other wizard’s appearance.   
His blonde hair was much darker than Draco’s, his eyes were a dull blue and his features were plain. He appeared so normal, he did not stand out in the slightest. There was absolutely nothing remarkable about his appearance.   
“Yes, I am certain,” he snarled. “Don’t worry about it. No one noticed me.”   
Draco found that odd. Everett had a famous last name that alone should have earned him notoriety although he supposed arriving in the same year as Harry Potter might have made anyone else seem far less remarkable by comparison.   
“Did we do something to you personally?” Hermione asked. “Because if we did, I’m sorry.”   
Draco wasn’t. He was sure Everett’s story was a sad one, but so were the stories of a lot of kids at Hogwarts, himself included. Not to mention the children born after the war and those, who had lost family members during the world. There wasn’t a family around that was intact, not even his. And this Everett bloke wanted sympathy because he was ignored?   
Fuck that.   
“No, you did exactly what everyone else did, so what could you possibly have to be sorry about?”   
XXX  
Hermione stared at Everett. She could hardly see what they could have done, but then it was probably exactly what everyone else had done as well. He had been ignored, forgotten. She had no recollection of him at all. Either his face or his name. But then again, she knew there were plenty of students in their year she had never gotten to know.   
And he clearly did not want an apology.  
So what did he want? To make them feel guilty and try to find some way to stop this marriage as punishment? Punishment for what though, ignoring him? Was this what he did now, look for opportunities to get revenge on all of his old classmates?   
In a way, Hermione could understand him. If she hadn’t met Harry and Ron, she would have been just as friendless. It wasn’t as if she and Ginny would have become friends without the boys. Of course, she might have still have had Neville.   
Oh, how she missed Neville. They owled regularly, but it was not the same.   
“Alright then, I presume your inspection doesn’t involve following us into the bedroom like some perver?”   
“Of course not,” he said indignantly.   
“Good, because we are going to bed,” Draco said.   
Now there was a good idea if Hermione had ever heard one. She got to her feet and Draco put his hand on her lower back. It was a protective gesture as he led her toward the bedroom.  
“What about dinner?” Everett called after them.   
Draco half-turned around. “Wouldn’t you know it, I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.”   
Everett scowled and Hermione rushed into the bedroom to hide her sudden fit of giggles. Draco was as snarky as always and somehow she had come to like that about him.   
Hermione closed the door behind them and cast Muffiliato nonverbally. It wasn’t a spell she approved of, but during the war she had learned that there were situations where such things were necessary.   
Crookshanks was asleep on the middle of the bed. He looked up with his squashed face and gave them a disgruntled look for waking him before settling back down to go to sleep. Hermione smiled at him fondly.   
“Did he look familiar to you?” Draco asked her.   
“No, not at all. Do you recognize him?”  
“No.”   
“Strange,” Hermione said slowly. “Did he seem bitter to you?”  
“Only in the dictionary definition sort of way,” Draco said. “Suppose we will just have to convince him we are the real deal.”   
Hermione sat down on the bed and scratched Crookshanks behind the ears. He purred in content.   
“How many couples do you think are out there like us?”   
“You mean avoiding the match?”   
She laughed. “Well yes, or just you know went with the first best option like we did?”  
Draco’s expression closed off as he went to the window. He looked thoughtful.   
“I suppose quite a lot. Pansy certainly went for the arranged option.”   
“Yes, I suppose you’re going to her wedding too?”   
“Yes,” he turned around and smiled at her. she was learning to read his cool smiles, they all meant different things. “Guess that means we are going together, love?”  
“Suppose it does.”   
She was relieved. She hated going to weddings alone. She had attended a few without Ron and they had all been painful.  
"He will leave, right? I don't like the idea of him out there all night long," Hermione said glancing uneasily at the door. She pulled the blanket higher on her chest.   
"I don't know," Draco said giving her a soft smile. "How much time in Azkaban will I get for hexing him?"  
"He's a Ministry employee!"  
Draco smirked. He mumbled something that sounded a lot like 'that's my girl'. But Hermione felt certain, she must have misheard.   
"Suppose that would make the wedding tough to pull off," Draco said with a mischievous look over his shoulder. "I'll ward the door."   
Hermione watched with keen interest as he cast several warding spells. Even after all of these years she still loved to watch other wizards and witches at work. At least a wizard as talented as Draco. She recognized many of them as ones she had used during the war to protect their campsites.  
Draco caught her watching him. A deep blush crept up her cheeks and Draco held her gaze. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't seem to do it. Slowly, he came toward her. His grey eyes were still locked on hers and she felt all of the oxygen leave the room.  
Draco got into bed with her and pulled her into his arms. She snuggled against his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck. He drew her closer and pressed his lips to hers. It was a slow, wet kiss that stole her breath away. There was passion and intensity in it that ignited a fire inside of her.  
A fire, which she had to admit had been getting harder and harder to ignore over these past few weeks. She and Draco shared a bed every night and so far all they had done was snuggle and snog a little.  
She ran her hand along his chest. His muscles were firm and hard beneath her touch. He squeezed her bum and caressed her upper thigh. He traced circles on his thigh and she moaned in his mouth. She could feel his smile.   
Heat was starting to take her over. She felt like a steady pressure was building and like she might explode if she didn't get some release. But release that would mean - her thoughts scattered as Draco's hand slipped between her thighs to tease her. She moaned and her head fell back against the pillow.  
Her voice was breathy as she gasped and moaned. Things were about to get out of control and she knew it. Hermione tried to summon the part of herself where a sensible, intelligent woman lived. Unfortunately, with the way Draco's hands were artfully carressing her and the hot-open mouthed kisses along her throat were banishing that woman to the back of her mind.   
His hand slid underneath her shirt, stroking her stomach. She sighed and giggled, arching her back into him for more. She wasn't normally this passive, but it seemed to be how it went with her and Draco. She got the feeling he liked driving her crazy, might even like it more than anything else.   
When his hand started to roam higher, she didn't stop him like she normally would have and he didn't pull back. Instead, his hand kept travelling higher and until he cupped her breast. His fingers played with her nipple, she closed her eyes and moaned. Her gasp turned into a ragged rasp.  
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him onto her. She hooked her legs around his hips. Draco flashed a smile and kissed his way down her neck. She pulled his shirt off. She ran her hands along his washboard stomach.  
Draco put his head in the crook of her neck. He pressed a soft kiss to her pulseline and she moaned pressing herself into him. He chuckled and placed another gentle kiss to her pulseline. She ran her hands along his back, tracing patterns.   
"We should probably stop, if we want to continue to take things slow," Draco hummed and chuckled.   
She giggled and blushed. She ruffled his hair and enjoyed the mussed up look. He pretended to scowl at her and kissed her cheek.   
"Guess we should stop," she agreed.   
Draco wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on her chest. She kept playing with his hair, enjoying his sighs of content.  
"I wonder if he is still out there."   
"Oh, I'd rather not think about it," Hermione said tensing. She had actually forgotten for a few minutes and was enjoying herself until now. Instead, all of the stress of the Ministry investigation came back to her. "Speaking of unpleasantness do you know when the Prophet is going to print that retraction?"  
"Last I heard Potter had spoken to them however, that's all I've heard."   
"Suppose we'll have to look into it in the morning."   
Draco chuckled. "Don't you ever relax?"  
"No."   
"Hopefully that vacation of yours will teach you how to relax."   
Hermione rolled her eyes. She knew Draco worried about her going away. Her nightmares had stopped since they started sharing a bed, but the were both wondering if the nightmares would return when she went away. Still, Hermione was keen to find out and if they did, she could suffer through them for a little while if it meant she got a girl's holiday somewhere warm and away from all of the curious stares at the Ministry.  
The Prophet was no longer running articles about her, but that did not mean that people weren't still talking and wondering and judging. It reminded her of fourth year with Harry and Victor all over again. Then there was the first year or so after the war when everyone wanted to know what the Golden Trio was up to. That attention eventually died down and this eventually would too. Especially, once the retraction was run. People would still judge, but it should assuage the worst of suspicions that Draco was using Dark Magic on her.   
He tapped her nose lightly, it was a teasing gesture that made her smile.  
"What are you thinking about with that know-it-all-brain of yours?"   
Hermione laughed and pushed him off her. He joined in and pulled her into his arms, brushing her hair from her face.   
"Just the article in the Prophet and how to get that retraction printed. They are certainly taking their time."  
"Of course, they aren't going to be in a rush to print an article where they admit they're wrong."   
"Of course not," Hermione agreed bitterly.   
"Let it go," Draco murmured kissing the top of her head and bringing her closer to him. She was surrounded by his warmth and his strong frame. "Get some sleep. We have work tomorrow and a new Ministry tail to impress."   
Hermione snorted a laugh. She pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade. She pressed herself closer, trying to ignore the raging fire coursing through her.   
Something large and orange pounced them. Crookshanks settled between the two of them, curled into a ball and purred happily.   
"Ah, the damn cat," Draco said flopping onto his back.   
"He's my beautiful, yes, he is," Hermione said scratching Crookshanks behind the ears.   
"Every night," Draco muttered and turned off the lights.   
Hermione giggled and settled in.   
XXX  
Draco lay awake for the longest time that night. The room was dark, but he could still see Hermione's outline and hear that ginger monstrosity's snores.   
What was it with Hermione and gingers?   
He wished there was some way to get the damn cat to move so that he could sleep next to Hermione. Not that he supposed it mattered. It was the same reason he had put the brakes on things even if for the first time ever, it seemed like Hermione wasn't going to stop him. Yet he knew he should because he could tell she was holding back from him. She was nervous about trusting him and letting him into his life as much as she had already.   
She was starting to open up with him, but he coudl tell she didn't trust it to last. Sometimes, when he thought about what the Weasel had done to her, he wanted to wring his neck. Of course, he couldn't do that either because Hermione was also nervous about the restraining order. He often caught her staring out of the window, tapping her foot and reading the history of magical restraining orders.   
So Draco lay there awake for half the night wondering what he could do get Hermione to believe he wasn't going to turn on her like Weasley before he finally fell into a restless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, commenting and leaving kudos on this fic! You guys are the best! Let me know what you thought of this chapter. And yes, Everett is going to fuck shit up. Draco and Hermione just have so many enemies. I'm fireismyelement97 on tumblr if you want to request a drabble.   
> \- Izzy


	11. Chapter 11

Hermione was going over her files. Writing up reports, but her mind was still on this morning. She had the best morning with Draco. When she had woken up early, he had pulled her snug against his chest and his fingers caressed every inch of her body. It had driven her crazy and at the same time, it had felt so good she had never wanted to move. 

To top it all off, they had coffee in bed. The best part was, since they had magic they could summon the coffee and make it all from bed with just a flick of their wands. It had been so tempting, she hadn't wanted to go into work. But to be honest, lately, the idea of work seemed less appealing than ever before. 

When she had gone into the Ministry it had been to do something important, something that mattered. But it was tedious work and she never seemed to make any real progress. She had spent the past six years working towards the rights of house elves and werewolves, but she had been rejected on the elves. As for the werewolves, Mr Diggory wouldn't even let her put it forth to the committee, never mind the Wizengamot. 

Maybe once she had secured rights for the house elves it was time to look into another career. But as quickly as that thought occurred to her, she pushed it aside. She couldn't leave her job, if she didn't fight for equality, who would? 

At least, she was making progress with the Goblins. 

There was a knock on her door. 

"Come in," she said her head still halfway lost in the papers and her own thoughts. 

The door opened and Narcissa Malfoy strolled inside. She was impeccably dressed as usual. Her blonde and black hair hung down her back and she wore a black robe of silk. She was a terrifying sight. 

Hermione's hand instinctively went to the wand in her pocket. She did not let go, not even when Narcissa smiled a tense smile. 

"Good morning, Hermione." 

"Mrs Malfoy," Hermione said coolly. "What can I do for you today?" 

Narcissa's smile froze. "I came to apologize." 

"Oh, well this should be good," Hermione laughed. "And it's long overdue." 

"I thought perhaps, it would be wise to give you some space," Narcissa said with her smile back in place. "What happened the other day was appalling. All I can say is that I am working on it and I do hope you will still marry Draco." 

"Fortunately for Draco, I don't hold him accountable for his parents' actions." 

"You don't?" Narcissa raised one perfectly styled manicure. "I'm impressed. You are an intelligent, capable young woman." 

"Uh-huh," Hermione said eyeing her skeptically. "Is that all?" 

"Not quite. I want to again apologize for the way I spoke of your bloodstatus." 

"I am proud of being Muggleborn and I don't care what you think. But if you think you can insult me and that I will stay for family dinners -" 

"Not at all, I understand. I hope you can understand, I did not mean it. Lucius simply brings out the worst in me. And I hope you are willing to give me a second chance as I would like for us to be friends." 

Hermione thought it over. She knew it would mean a lot to Draco if she and Narcissa got along. 

"I suppose it can't hurt. But this is for Draco." 

"I appreciate that," Narcissa smile warmed enough to reach her eyes. "And I did mean what I said about your talents as a witch." 

Hermione had a dim memory of Narcissa saying something about her talents as a witch. Things that she had missed in the heat of the moment, having discounted it as a way of repairing the damage of her earlier words. And looking at Narcissa now, Hermione was inclined to think she was a snake. A different kind of snake than Lucius, but a snake all the same. 

These were Draco's parents. He must be like them in some way. She knew he had changed, but once again that nagging fear that he would disappoint her reappeared. She shoved that aside as well. She didn't have time to examine it now and she probably need to see her psychologist again. 

"Don't," Hermione said. "Just don't. This is for Draco." 

"Perhaps I can buy you lunch today?" 

"No," Hermione said firmly. "Absolutely not. I agreed to us trying to be friends again, but we are not going to be spending quality time together. I was thinking something more along the lines of dinner the next time Draco wants to spend time with his mother." 

Narcissa pursed her lips into a thin smile. "Very well. I can see you are a hard sell." 

"I am." 

"I'll see you at dress shopping then?" 

"In two months' time," Hermione reminded her. 

"Leaving it late, but very well," Narcissa sighed. "I look forward to it. Give my best to Draco would you?" 

"Of course." 

Once Narcissa left, Hermione went back to work. She thought for a second she might actually get some work done. Unfortunately, Andrew came in with some Ministry employees. One was a witch in bright turquoise robes and equally bright pink hair. The other was a wizard with midnight blue robes and a serious expression. He looked like a hard liner. 

Andrew on the other hand looked as excited as if Christmas had come early. 

"Hermione, this Thomas Gallagher and Lisa Humphries. They're here to ask me some questions about your relationship with Draco, which you know is one of my favorite topics." 

"Good morning," Hermione said with a false smile. "I'm surprised my presence is required for the interview." 

"It's not," Lisa said with a look of exasperation aimed at Andrew. "He simply insisted. Saying that he wouldn't discuss his friend's relationship behind her back." 

"Well of course not. I'm not going to gossip and put Hermione through that uncertainty after all of the nastiness in the Prophet." 

Hermione rubbed her temples. She sincerely hoped Andrew realized what was at stake here. If the Ministry decided her relationship with Draco was fake or had started after the news of the matching then it would be considered void. If that happened they would either face time in Azkaban or given a warning and forcibly paired with their "perfect match". If the Ministry tried to force her to marry Ron again, she was going to spill the beans about Lucius involvement, but she would rather not have to. She and Draco had agreed to avoid that because Lucius was his father. Still, if push came to shove, it was Lucius' funeral. 

"Just answer their questions, Andrew," Hermione said with a tense smile. 

"Certainly," Andrew grinned. "Oh, where are my manners? Or my sense of duty for that manner? After all, I am the magnificent Hermione's assistant. Tea or coffee anyone?" 

"Andrew please just answer their questions so that they can leave," Hermione said taking advantage of what little patience she had left. 

"Certainly, whatever my lovely and fair boss," Andrew said grinning at her. "So what are you questions? You must have questions if this is a formal inquiry, but really is this the best use of Ministry resources?" 

Hermione groaned. She conjured a cup of tea, she had at the ready for when headaches kicked in. She had a long sip and tried to focus on her paperwork as Andrew answered their questions. 

"Are all of the facts reported in the Prophet true?" Lisa asked. 

"Well no, when does the Prophet get everything right? Malfoy doesn't have her under some kind of spell, which the Aurors office can confirm." 

"Are they in love?" Thomas interjected. 

"Do you know any engaged couples, who are in love? Not since the new law at any rate," Andrew scoffed. "But have they been dating? Yes, they have." 

"Since when?" 

"I'm not sure. I think it started sometime right after New Year's," Andrew sounded thoughtful. "Yes, that sounds about right." 

"So before the matchmaking spell?" Lisa inquired. 

"Yes. Obviously," Andrew rolled his eyes. "Honestly." 

"What do you know of their more intimate relationship?" 

"You mean sex?" Andrew gaped. 

Hermione sunk into her seat, turning red. "That's none of the Ministry's business," she snapped. 

"I'm her employee! Nothing!" 

Hermione, who had enough left the house. She thought maybe it was time to go see Harry and have an early lunch. 

Unfortunately, when she arrived in the Auror department she saw there were two Ministry employees there interrogating Harry as well. Hermione didn't even stay long enough to hear the questions, she just left. 

Instead, she went to the Ministry cafeteria. She got herself a cup of tea, a tray of lunch and sat down at an empty table. She took out her files from her purse and kept working as she ate. The cafeteria was bustling and filled with people, but even with all that noise, it felt like the first peaceful moment she had all day. She welcomed the cheery noise and worked with renewed productivity as a thrill of excitement went through her. 

XXX 

Draco was leaving the locker room after practice when he was accosted by a livid Pansy. She was just barging through the door to locker room and ran straight into him. He was knocked back and she almost fell, he barely caught her before she hit the floor. 

"Pansy? What are you doing here?" 

"Me?" she breathed through her nose. "These goons -" she pointed to the two wizards behind her. "Claim to be from the Ministry. They appeared at my shop and demanded I close for an hour all so they could ask me ridiculous questions about your relationship with Hermione!" 

Draco raised brows. 

"Is it necessary to do this during business hours?" he asked the Ministry wizards. 

"Surely, you can understand our urgency." 

"No, I can't," Draco said. "Hermione and I are getting married. I fail to see why the Ministry is so interested in our affairs that you have to disrupt our friends' business dealings. Unless you plan to compensate Pansy for her time?" 

"It is her duty as a witch to serve the Ministry!" squeaked the smallest wizard. 

"Just answer their questions Pans. At least they aren't tailing you the way they are us." 

"They are tailing you?" Pansy stared at him in horrified shock. "Honestly that is despicable! Is it even legal?" 

"That's what I was on my way to ask Blaise," he smirked. 

Pansy returned his smile with a sly smirk of her own. She turned back to the wizards and snapped her fingers at them. 

"Questions. Come on now, hop to. I don't have all day you know." 

Draco grinned. 

"Do you know how long Mr Malfoy and Ms Granger have been involved?" 

"Since after New Year's sometime," Pansy drawled. "Why don't you ask them?" 

"Because they are under investigation." 

"Fascinating," Pansy studied her nails carelessly. 

"Are you aware of any dark magic in their relationship?" 

Pansy scoffed derisively. "Of course, not. Everyone knows Skeeter is a dirty little liar." 

"Do you know how far their physical relationship has progressed?" 

Draco felt his blood boil. He put his hand on his wand before he knew what he was doing. He had to take a deep breath to calm himself down. He also had to remind himself several times that if he hexed a Ministry employee, he would be looking at time in Azkaban, which would make it difficult to marry Hermione. He did not want to lose her now that he was so close to having her. 

"No idea, not my business or yours," Pansy added with a pointed look. 

"No, it's really not," Draco agreed in a snarl. "And one more such question and I will report you to the legislative department." 

"Be our guest," one of the wizards said as he scribbled something onto a clipboard. "Are you under the impression the relationship is genuine?" 

"Yes." 

Pansy spoke with such conviction and without hesitation that Draco was touched. His friends rarely showed affection, but in situations such as these, he knew he could always count on them. 

"And they are in love?" 

"No, but I'm not in love with my fiancé either." 

"So it's fake?" 

"No," Pansy stated with an eye roll. "The Ministry passes a new law forcing us all into marriage before the year ends, a lot of people are marrying people they just started seeing. It's a natural consequence of such an action. Are you going to investigate my relationship next?" 

"No." 

"Good," Pansy beamed. "I consider this just as moronic, but carry on with your useless questions." 

"Yes, please do. I'm eager to add more questions to the complaint I lodge against you and your bosses," Draco told them with a sinister smile. 

The first wizard simply gazed at him arrogantly, but the other, he paled. At least one of them wasn't one hundred percent confident they were legally in the right. 

"Just a few more questions and we will be out of your hair Miss Parkinson," he said with a dirty look at Draco. "Have you and Mr Malfoy ever been romantically involved?" 

"Around sixth year, it didn't last." 

"Oh, interesting," he nodded as he wrote it down. 

The second wizard piped up. "And if this relationship were fake, why do you think they would go to these lengths?" 

Draco's hand twitched to hex them, but once again he restrained himself. 

"It is not fake," Pansy said exhaling through her nose. "Do you want to know how I know? Because even though Draco and I went out in sixth year, I've known since fifth year that he fancies Hermione Granger." 

Draco felt like the world's biggest prat. He had never meant to treat Pansy as crappy as he did in sixth year and he especially did not want her to know she was second string to Hermione. 

"You knew, Pans? Merlin's beard, I'm sorry." 

"It's okay," she shrugged. "I think I knew the night of the Yule ball in fourth year, but I didn't want to admit, not even to myself. Besides, I wasn't really all that into you either. I just wanted the status, you know?" 

Draco nodded. He understood and he wasn't going to say anything more with the others around. Pansy had been preparing herself for when Voldemort took over. She wanted to be with Draco because the Malfoys were in his inner circle and she wanted to make sure her family would be alright. 

The Parkinsons were Purebloods, which was all well and good, but if she really wanted to secure their position in Voldemort's world order, nothing would do that as easily as marrying a Death Eater. 

But that did not mean using her as a distraction for Hermione was alright. It was just one of the many wrong things he had done in his life. Just like with Hermione he had things to make up to Pansy and he was going to do it even if it took years. 

"As touching as this is, can we get back to the questions now?" the wizard asked. "And it would be best if you aren't present Mr Malfoy so as not to influence the results." 

"Piss off," Draco said. 

He took out his wand and Disapparated with a crack. When he appeared in Hermione's living room, he had to admit, he felt a little winded and sat down for a minute. Apparating for such long distances was draining and he ordinarily flooed to avoid that, but Hermione had disconnected her fireplace from the Floo Network after Everett had used it to appear unannounced in her home. 

After he got his bearings, he went to the kitchen and decided to start on dinner. He wasn't much of a cook, but he did have a few dishes he cooked when he was in Northern Ireland. Most of the time, he went home after training. Other times, he preferred to stay in Ireland. It gave him the option of avoiding real life. 

Since, he knew Hermione was likely to be as stressed with these Ministry interviews as he was, he wanted to make something special. Unfortunately, the fanciest thing he could cook was pasta primavera. He just hoped she liked it. 

He bustled around the kitchen, putting as much attention and detail into each part of the meal as he put into Quidditch. Soon, the kitchen was filled with delicious aromas and the sound of boiling water. He decided to put some music on and filled himself a glass of Firewhisky. 

His first instinct had been to summon Mapsy however, he hadn't because he knew Hermione. She would appreciate the gesture more if he had done the cooking himself and not depended on his house elf. 

He was looking forward to Hermione returning to the house. He was sure this was one of those things that might help her trust him. Because that was what he needed time and the patience to prove to her, he was nothing like Ron. 

XXX 

Hermione appeared in her living room. She felt like a wrung-out sponge. She had spent most of the day hiding from everyone, including Andrew, who had questions about the Ministry interrogation. 

Eventually however, Harry had tracked her down. Fortunately, he had been as miserable about the Ministry inquiry as she was and he promised to ensure the Prophet ran their retraction in the next week. Otherwise, she was given a free pass from the Aurors department to do whatever she wanted to make them run it. Unless of course, she wouldn't rather just go to Kingsley. 

The first thing she noticed was the music playing. When was the last time she had come home to something other than an empty house? She couldn't remember because normally, she was home before Draco came by. He must have finished practice early. 

The second thing she noticed was the smell of pasta and sauce. She closed her eyes and inhaled, taking a minute to enjoy the fact that someone else was cooking for her. Ron had never cooked for her. He hadn't even helped during the war or after. He did however, complain if something wasn't done exactly like how his mother cooked it. A habit that never failed to piss her off. 

Not Draco though. He always liked her cooking or claimed to at least. Not that Hermione minded because she knew she wasn't the best cook and growing up spoilt and rich, he was probably used to gourmet cooking. 

"That smells incredible," she said entering the kitchen and sighing. "What are you cooking?" 

"Pasta primavera," he replied with an easy smile. One that made her heart skip a beat. She hadn't known Draco could smile like that before. Had never once seen it when they were at Hogwarts together. "I'm not much of a cook I'm afraid." 

"Neither am I." 

Hermione took a seat at the kitchen table and watched him use a mixture of magic and Muggle actions to make the dinner. She grinned when a glass of wine levitated toward her. She took it and had a sip. It was a full-bodied red wine. There was a hint of something in it, something she couldn't quite place, but that conjured images of potions brewing. 

"What sort of wine is this?" she asked leaning forward on her elbows. 

"Something from Northern Italy. I purchased it at a Magical Settlement a few years back," he replied stirring the sauce. "The witch, who sold it to me spoke with a heavy Northern accent. I couldn't understand her Italian." 

Hermione giggled. She liked picturing him in a shop trying to buy a decent wine yet being adorably confused by the witch's Italian. 

"How many languages do you speak?" 

"Italian and French mostly. Additionally, I can read ancient runes, which you already know." 

"Yes, I do," she replied thinking of the one class they had shared where they were never at odds. "Why didn't you ever bully me in ancient runes?" 

Draco froze and she could see the tension in his back. He didn't turn around to face her, just kept cooking. 

"I suppose because none of our other friends were in the class." 

"No fun without an audience?" Hermione had a sip of wine and refused to look away from him. She stared at the back of his neck and willed herself to hear the answer without flinching no matter how horrible it was. 

She was Muggleborn and proud of it. There was nothing Draco could say that would make her ashamed of that. 

"No point in pretending I hated you when there was no one there to call my bluff." 

Hermione turned that statement over in her mind a few times. 

"Makes sense," she said finally. 

"You know I'm sorry about -" 

"Don't," Hermione interrupted him. "You've apologized enough. If you can make sure I don't have to marry Ron again or serve time in Azkaban, you'll have more than redeemed yourself in my opinion." 

Now, Draco turned around. There was a ghost of a smile on his face and it looked like his good mood was on its way to being restored. In a way, she felt bad about disrupting the peace of their evening, but once it occurred to her, she had to know. 

"Dinner is ready." 

Draco used magic to levitate the food onto the table. He was a skilled wizard and everything danced lightly toward the table. The food and flatware landed easily without as much as a scrape. 

She took her own wand out and with a flick of it there was a generous helping of food on each their plates. Draco gave her a ruefully fond smile and she realized they actually worked well together. 

Draco sat down across from her. 

She had a bite and moaned. She closed her eyes and savoured the taste. 

"Oh Merlin's beard," she sighed. "That's amazing." 

Draco cracked a smile. "Thank you." 

She blushed by the insinuating way, he looked at her and the seductive note in his voice. 

They chatted through the rest of the meal and it was first then Hermione realized how hungry she was after work. She ate like a wolf and enjoyed every bite, it was absolutely amazing. 

After dinner, she used Scourgify to clean up. Draco helped and she covertly watched him cast spells the way she always did. She didn't think she would ever tire of watching magic in the hands of those, who truly knew what they were doing. 

She hopped up on the counter. Draco looked her way and flashed a smile. 

"When do you think that prat Evan is going to show up again?" 

"It's Everett," Hermione said with poorly concealed irritation. "And hopefully, not any time soon." 

"Oh, it's Everett is it?" Draco crooned. "I didn't realize you cared." 

"I don't," she huffed then something occurred to her and she narrowed her eyes as she glowered at him. "And you're doing it on purpose, you do know his name." 

He rolled his eyes. "Obviously. However, I found I don't particularly care. He's just another Ministry toady trying to make our life difficult." 

"I had noticed," she told him with an eye roll. "But why? That's what I want to know." 

"So you've mentioned," he smirked. "And knowing you, you'll get to the bottom of it." 

Draco moved closer. He put his hands on her upper thighs. He pulled her closer to him and leaned into her. He pushed her robes up with her and she wrapped her arms around his neck. She gave him a peck on the lips. 

He flashed a smile that made her stomach do a flip. She nipped on his lower lip and enjoyed his surprised expression. He pulled her closer abruptly. He touched his forehead to hers. 

"Ouch," he chuckled and it was husky. 

His breath fanned along her face and she shivered, pressing herself closer. 

"Sorry," she murmured. 

She ran her tongue along the bottom seam of his lip, soothing the bite. Draco caught her by surprise and pinched her side. She gasped and let out a squeak. He laughed and ran his hand teasingly along her side in a gentle caress that stole her breath away. 

Draco's hand cupped the back of her neck. He pressed his lips against hers and she froze, caught off guard. She was still thinking about how he pinched her. She tangled her hands into his hair, loving that she got to mess it up. At Hogwarts his hair had always been perfect and she loved nothing more than to ruffle that perfection. His hand massaged the back of her neck and she sighed. 

She sunk into the kiss and pressed herself closer. It started out gentle and soon became scorching. She clung to his hair, tugging on it. Draco held her with vicelike strength against him. He pressed his hard length against her damp core as he gave her hot open-mouth kisses that burned her. 

Hermione ran her hand down his back, clawing in retaliation for the harsh kisses. He groaned and his hand tangled more tightly into her hair. The hand at her hip, clutched her so tightly she thought it might bruise. 

Draco kissed his way down her neck. He started to slowly unbutton her robe. It was a purple dress with buttons down to the waist. It was an old-fashioned bodice, it was something Pansy had sent her. With a note saying to tell Witch Weekly where she bought it if they tried to interview her again. Hermione had sent her a thank you note and promised to tell the reporter if anyone else came around for an interview. Something that happened regularly since she took up with Draco. 

And it was a gift she was grateful for now as Draco's fingers skillfully unbuttoned her dress. He kissed her jaw, nibbling her lightly. He ran his hand tentatively inside of her robe. His touch was gentle as caressed the soft skin of her chest. 

Slowly, his hand moved lower, cupping her breast. He squeezed and kneaded her right breast. A ragged moan escaped her. She arched her back and threw her head back, giving him access. The rough skin of his calloused hand made her moan and a feeling of electricity run through her. 

If anyone had asked her before, she never would have believed Draco's hands were rough with callouses. She also never would have guessed how his touch unravelled her. It was a surprise that made her smile as noises she didn't recognize as coming from her escaped her lips. 

To her surprise, his hand slipped underneath her bra. Draco's fingers played with her nipple, the rough pad of his thumb circled the sensitive area. She moaned and closed her eyes. Her breath came in ragged pants that she knew should embarrass her and probably would have if she wasn't in such a state of fevered arousal. He was too, she could tell because his hard cock pressed against her and she rocked into him. 

He stopped his ministrations, grunting, his concentration disrupted. Then he dove back in. This time, his lips ran across the top of her breasts. She mewled and continued to rock her hips against him. She felt like she was going to explode as his tongue explored her skin and his hand kneaded her breasts. 

Without giving herself the chance to think, Hermione reached for his trousers. She started to undo the top bottom of his pants when there was a loud crack. Still feeling as if she was lost in an overheated day dream, she blinked and stared up at him. Draco looked up and there was a scowl on his face. His scowl deepened and his lips turned into an angry line. 

"What are you doing here?" he drawled in a cold voice she recognized from her days at school. 

She followed his gaze and saw it was Everett. Unlike Draco, she flushed a deep shade of scarlet. Frantically, she started to button her dress again. Draco still appeared completely unembarrassed. Instead, he looked coldly furious in a way that might have intimidated her if he had been looking at her in that way. There was something cold and harsh about his expression now that she had never seen before. He had changed in more than one way since the war it would seem. 

Draco seemed to notice, she was turning toward Everett and it exposed some of her chest to him. She was still struggling to button her dress, which she could not do as quickly he was able to undo it. He turned her back around to face him and withdrew his wand. He waved it, casting a nonverbal spell and their clothes were back on. 

That made her blush an even deeper shade of scarlet, but this time for other reasons. She had completely panicked because she had never before been caught in such an exposed position. 

"I am here," Everett said slowly and with complete composure. "To inspect your relationship as both I and the Ministry have informed you." 

Draco made a noise at the back of his throat that sounded suspiciously like a growl. 

"We're a little busy, get out." 

"Carry on," Everett said in a careless tone of voice that caused Hermione to turn around again to stare at him completely scandalized.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone, who has read and commented on this fic! So sorry about the wait and the cliffhanger. Let me know what you thought of this chapter.


	12. Chapter 12

Hermione stared at Everett in complete disbelief. Did he just tell them to carry on as if he wasn't standing in Draco's kitchen perving on them? 

"Get out!" Hermione screeched. 

"Yes, get out before I remove you," Draco said in an ice cold tone of voice. "By force, in case that wasn't clear for someone as dense as you." 

"I cannot leave, I am here to observe your relationship on behalf of the Ministry." 

"So you've said," Draco said his eyes hardening. "However, as you can see we are in the middle of something private." 

"This is in complete violation of Ministry policy.” 

"Impossible as I am acting on their behalf," Everett’s smile was cold and simpering, it reminded her unpleasantly of Umbridge. "I am designated to following you for eight hours after work to ensure the legitimacy of this relationship." 

"Then we will be filing a legitimate complaint with Kingsley Shacklebolt, you know the Minister for Magic," Hermione said tersely making sure to emphasize the word 'legitimate'. 

"You are free to do so," Everett replied still placidly calm. 

“And I have already filed a complaint with Blaise Zabini from the Legislative Department,” Draco said with a cold smile. “And if you don’t leave immediately, I will call him here to tell you precisely how many Ministry laws you are violating.” 

Hermione's hand twitched to hex that smug smile from his face. Draco seemed to be struggling with the same urge as he clenched and unclenched his fist. 

"We will," Hermione said curtly turning her nose up. 

“Excellent. Do let me know how that goes,” Everett said with insufferable smugness. 

“That does it,” Draco snapped. 

Draco withdrew his wand and for a brief moment, Hermione was convinced he was going to do something stupid. Except all, he did was cast a spell to send a message to Blaise. 

A few moments later, Blaise Disapparated in her kitchen. He wore sweeping green robes, but his hair was ruffled and the top few buttons of his robes were undone. 

“What the bloody hell Draco? This had best be important as I was in the middle of something.” 

Draco looked as if he was repressing a smile, Hermione noticed. She blushed when she realized what Zabini had in all likelihood been doing. 

“Oh dear,” Hermione mumbled, cheeks scalding. 

“Who are you?” Zabini drawled, his eyes raked over Everett with cool indifference. 

“I am here on behalf of the Ministry,” Everett said, puffing out his chest. 

“He Apparated into Hermione’s home uninvited after flooing in most recently,” Draco explained. “Again without invitation and he refuses to leave.” 

“Ah, yes, the Ministry problem you were telling me about,” Zabini said buttoning his robes. “Unfortunately, unless his boss recalls him, he is entitled to stay until the formal complaint has been reviewed.” 

Hermione cursed. “That is entirely unacceptable! There has to be a better use of the Ministry’s resources!” 

“I agree,” Zabini said with a look of disgust at Everett. “However, that is the law and there is nothing I can do about it. Other than rush the complaint.” 

“And I will speak with Kingsley Shacklebolt.” 

“Oooh scary,” Everett mocked and fake shuddered. 

Hermione’s eyes narrowed and she imagined casting bombardo right where he was standing. But that was a dark thought and she shoved it aside, quickly. She did not approve of attacking Ministry employees, no matter how much they might deserve it. 

“I should get going. I have company,” Blaise smirked. 

With a crack, he left. Hermione glowered at Everett and saw Draco was watching him with a murderous expression. It was a cold hard mask, the same one he used to wear when he bullied back at Hogwarts. One that had gradually disappeared during the war and she found, she didn’t like seeing it on him now. 

"Let's go before I do something rash," Draco said in a low voice to her. 

"Bedroom?" she asked then blushed when she realized what she had said. 

It was her idea to take things slow yet it seemed like whenever they were together, she forgot and it was up to Draco to put the brakes on. 

"Good idea," Draco said, but his expression held none of the lust from minutes ago. 

Draco took her hand and led her toward the bedroom. He slammed the door shut and immediately whipped out his wand. Hermione looked at his bookshelf while he cast numerous spells to keep Everett from eavesdropping on them. 

The bookshelf was the only personal items he had in the bedroom. In fact, it was the only personal thing about his home in Northern Ireland. His Church house was different, there were the occasional personal items, but it was stark. This place however, nice it was, was painfully bare. His room especially no photographs, scattered clothing or any knick-knacks that indicated an actual human being lived here. 

But the bookshelf - oh the bookshelf, Hermione thought with a sigh. Her eyes roamed the familiar titles hungrily. Hogwarts a History, A Magical Analysis of Wandlore, Tales of the Beetle Bard and other titles she had read over the years. Looking at them here in Draco's bedroom, it was like running into old friends in an unexpected place. Yet she supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. 

Draco was second only to her in grades at Hogwarts. It wasn't something she had ever given much thought to. She had known he was a talented wizard, but she had tried not to think about it because she found it irritating. Therefore, if she thought of it logically then it followed he was a reader. And the truth was, she had judged his intelligence based on his friends and she had assumed if he could keep the company of Crabbe and Goyle without going mental at their lack of communication skills then he couldn't be all that smart himself. It was probably, for a lot of the same reasons that Harry had a hard time admitting Draco was actually a talented Seeker. 

She had been so engrossed in studying his bookcase and her own thoughts she didn't notice he had snuck up behind her until he had. His arms encircled her stomach and he put his head on her shoulder. 

She sunk into his warm embrace, enjoying how tall and fit he was. She could feel his muscles tightening when he gave her a playful squeeze that made her smile. 

"Should have known sooner or later I'd find you over here with the books." 

Embarrassed by her bookish ways, she blushed and pressed her face into the crook of his neck. It was something everyone teased her about in school, maybe not outright but the nickname know-it-all had stung. It wasn't as if she did anything others couldn't do if only they applied themselves as she had frequently told Harry and Ron. 

Not that they had ever listened. 

"You have all the best books in your collection." 

"I do?" he sounded surprised. "I just brought my favorites with me. I've a library back in England twice this size." 

Oh, that was a sinfully good sentence. It was probably about the hottest thing he could have said. She pressed herself closer, nuzzling his neck. She could feel a raging fire begin to course through her and her core ached. She felt feverish and wanted nothing more than to press her lips to his and tear off his clothes. 

"We like the same books," she murmured placing a soft kiss to his pulse line. She could feel it when his heart skipped a beat. "Have you actually read Hogwarts a History?" 

"Of course, I have," he snorted derisively. "You must have as well?" 

"It's one of my favorites," she turned around and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I don't know anyone else, who has read it." 

Harry and Ron certainly hadn’t ever bothered to read it themselves. Instead, they preferred to rely on her knowledge of the topic. 

"Now you do," he winked at her. 

The fever inside of her demanded she stop talking and kiss him, but her intellectual curiosity got the better of her. 

"What was your favorite part?" 

"You're adorable when you're bookish," he murmured. He tucked a lock of her hair behind her hair, his fingers lingered. "But I'd rather you put that giant brain of yours to other uses right now." 

Hermione frowned. That wasn't sexy talk or book talk. 

"How do you mean?" 

"Getting rid of that Everett prat," he said sending a scowl toward the door. 

Hermione wondered if he was still out there and heaved a frustrated sigh. 

"That's tomorrow's problem." 

Back at Hogwarts, she would have sent an owl to Kingsley immediately to schedule a meeting. However, since those days she had changed her ways. She was older and more tired. She felt like all she did was fight an uphill battle and things that once seemed urgent had lost their fire. She knew they were important, but she also knew it could wait until tomorrow. She was supposed to meet Kingsley for lunch in a few days anyway. And until then, they could ignore Everett. 

"Perhaps tonight's, if I just confund him or something." 

"Draco," Hermione cautioned moving away to look up at him. "Don't you dare! The Ministry will know what you did! You'll go to Azkaban." 

"It's really not so terrible without the Dementors." 

"Draco, no!" she said firmly feeling herself become hysterical. 

She couldn't stand the idea of him in Azkaban. Didn't he see she cared? Didn't he care about her at all? Was he willing to leave her alone and who knew what that meant for her with this new law? Although logically, she knew it would mean nothing good. 

"Relax, sweetheart," he pulled her back to him and kissed her forehead. "I won't. I don't want to rot away in Azkaban and leave you all alone." 

Had he read her mind? No, she would have known if he had attempted Legilimency on her. Still, she searched his grey eyes looking for any sign that he had read her mind. He smoothed the worried crease in her forehead. 

"Relax, I'm not going anywhere. I promise," he repeated. 

"I'll hold you to that," she said and meant it. 

Draco kissed her. It was slower and softer than it had been in the kitchen. His kiss turned her insides to mush. 

She wrapped her fingers into his hair. Enjoying how the soft silky tresses. He started walking her back to the bed and her legs hit the bedframe. She sunk back onto it and Draco lay down on top of her. 

He kissed his way down her neck. She arched her back to give him access and before her rational mind could catch up to her actions, she was pulling his robes off. Draco must have changed his mind about taking things slow because he started to undress her as well. 

Their kisses grew more heated and Hermione found herself trying to touch every part of him as she undressed him. Draco hands skimmed her entire body and heat coursed through her as she felt his hands undo her robes. 

Before she quite knew what had happened, she was down to her underwear and so was Draco. His hand cupped her breast, massaging it and she moaned. His movements became firmer and surer, and noises kept escaping her lips. Noises that she didn't recognize as coming from her. 

Draco began to kiss his way down her throat and then her chest. When he started to kiss his way down her stomach and lower, she came back to her senses. 

"Draco," she murmured tugging on his hair. "Draco, we should stop." 

"We should," he chuckled against her stomach and his breath fanned across her smooth skin. She shivered in response and sighed in frustration. "You are absolutely right." 

"Draco," she hit his shoulder playfully. "If we're going to stop, you should probably move." 

"Probably," he agreed and rolled off her. 

She giggled at the look of exasperation on his face. She was sure it was mirrored on her own face. She felt a sudden sense of loss and frustration because she wanted nothing more than to continue what they had been doing. But they had only been going out properly for a couple of weeks and in that time they had grown closer. If they took things further now, it could ruin everything. 

Hermione got under the covers and it wasn't long before Draco followed her under. He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. His hand smoothed out her curls and she wrapped her arms around him. She put her head on his bare shoulder and a thrill went through her. She could feel his warm skin against her and she ran her fingers playfully along his chest. 

Draco caught the hand that was playing against his skin. He kissed each fingertip and a sigh escaped her, making her blush in embarrassment. He turned her hand over and kissed the inside of her palm and the back of her hand. Then he laced their fingers together and they came to rest on his chest, just above his heart. 

"When do you go on your girl trip?" 

"In a week," she grinned. 

Just the thought of relaxing with her friends and being away from all of the drama. As well as the people sending them hate post, it was like a dream. She could just picture all of her stress vanishing on a beach with a good book and at the spa. 

Oh, just the thought of a magical spa was enough to make her toes curls. She had been once in the past with Ginny and it had put Muggle spas to shame. And right now, it sounded perfect. Exception maybe snuggling with Draco. That felt amazing too even if it was starting to frustrate her. 

"Want to go on holiday with me sometime this summer?" 

The question caught her off guard, she hadn't been prepared for that. She had been prepared for questions about her trip and when she was coming back. Not this, it felt somehow like a bigger step than getting engaged had done. Yet she knew logically that was insane. Most couples went on a holiday together before they got engaged. Must be a sign of the times. 

"That could be nice," she frowned. "But I'm not certain I have anymore, holidays left at work. I took some to go to your Quidditch match, then some for this trip and I have to take a week for the wedding in advance to help with all of the planning. Pity we smashed all of the Time Turners when we were at the Department of Mysteries," she sighed. 

Draco snorted. "Of course your solution when you have too much to do is a Time Turner rather than to hire extra help." 

"Excuse me if I don't have a family fortune and a Quidditch fortune to let me hire someone for every little inconvenience." 

"Ouch," he chuckled. "However, I doubt you will have to take a week off for the wedding. I'm certain mother has hired the best wedding planners." 

"She has hired an army of people, but I want to have a say in what happens." 

"If that's what you want," he kissed the top of her head. 

"You on the other hand seem completely unconcerned with the spectacle your mother is trying to arrange. I am attempting to keep things small, you could help with that,” she said with a pointed look. 

"I've told my mother we want a small wedding." 

She rolled her eyes. "Too bad, you're going cake tasting with me and your mother." 

"I am?” Draco sounded alarmed. 

"Yes, we need a peacekeeper." 

"Very well," he sighed as if it was some great effort, which made her roll her eyes again. 

"You are such a baby," she told him and poked his side. "It's cake tasting there is literally going to be cake. How bad can it be?" 

"True," he chuckled. 

“And you have to come dress shopping with us. For the same reasons.” 

Draco swore. “I think that will be even worse than cake tasting. However, I will go to ensure that my mother and you do not hex each other into tiny pieces.” 

Hermione sighed. "But perhaps we can go on away on the weekend this summer." Then something occurred to her and she sat up straight to look at him. “Wait - this holiday, is it about bringing my parents back?” 

“Perhaps,” Draco said with a grimace. 

“Not again, I’m not certain it’s a good idea. I sent them packing years ago and I never came back for them. I doubt they will be able to forgive me.” 

Draco rolled his eyes. “We’ve been over this. They are your parents.” 

“And I’m not certain.” 

"Very well. A weekend getaway could be fun. We could go to Italy?" 

"I've always wanted to go to Italy. I don't travel much with work." 

"That's because you're always working late, Hermione.” 

He raised her hand to his lips and gave the back of it a chaste kiss. She snuggled closer. 

XXX 

Tuesday of that week and Hermione met Kingsley Shacklebolt for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley. Tom the barkeep served them a piping hot lunch of minced pie and butterbeer on the house. 

“A little congratulations on your upcoming wedding, Hermione,” Tom said with a toothy smile. 

“Thank you, Tom. That’s very kind of you.” 

“Yes, thank you,” Kingsley said in his deep voice. When Tom left, he turned to Hermione with a grave expression. “Now what I can help you with Hermione?” 

Hermione explained about the investigation. No detail was spared including the problems they were having with Everett as well as Ron. The only thing she kept to herself was the discovery that Lucius Malfoy had been the one to tamper with their results from the Matchmaking spell. 

“Oh dear, that is quite the situation and a most peculiar one,” Kingsley said after a long pause. “I will make some inquiries and demand that the Ministry employees tailing you respect your privacy. The Ministry does have a right to check in and make house calls, but not without your explicit invitation.” 

“I knew it,” Hermione hissed from between clenched teeth. “I knew there was something bizarre going on. And they are breaking the rules.” 

“They are and I would like to know why. I’ll have a word with the head of this investigation and perhaps make use of some Veritaserum.” 

“Thank you.” 

“It’s the least I can do for an old friend, Hermione. After all, we fought Voldemort together.” 

Hermione grinned. “Thank you again and if you’ll excuse me, I have one more thing to take care of before I go back to work.” 

“Of course.” 

Hermione Disapparated with a crack and reappeared in the lobby of the Daily Prophet. She marched over to the receptionist and asked if Rita Skeeter was in. The receptionist was chewing magic bubble gum and was blowing blew bubbles that floated around in the air around her their own. Her expression was bored and she barely glanced at Hermione. 

“Second floor, desk at the window.” 

Hermione marched up to the second floor and almost immediately spotted Skeeter’s blonde curls. Today, she was wearing a green outfit in the same acidic green as her quill. 

When Hermione reached her desk, Skeeter’s smile widened like a toad. 

“Well well well, if it isn’t the lovely Ms Granger. What did I do to deserve this unexpected pleasure?” 

Hermione snorted. “Save the polite chitchat. You and I both know why I’m here.” 

“We do?” Skeeter feigned surprise and her eyebrows raised up into her hairline. 

“Yes, you have a Ministry ordered retraction to run and you are going to write it, right now in front of me.”   
“Am I?”   
“You remember those months you spent in a jar as a beetle?” Hermione asked. She leaned on Skeeter’s desk and whispered. She didn’t want anyone else to overhear this particular conversation. 

Skeeter paled and her acidic smile fell. 

“You wouldn’t dare pull that stunt twice.” 

“Wouldn’t I?” Hermione breathed. “Because I’m not the one with everything to lose. Last time I checked becoming an unregistered Animagus means time in Azkaban. But perhaps you would like that? You could write an expose on life inside of the Wizarding prison. I bet your readers would like that, I know I would. How would you like to write it?” 

All of the color had drained from Skeeter’s face once again. 

“Fine,” she said through clenched teeth. “You’re a vile little creature. Always have been, but I’ll run your bloody retraction.” 

“Go on then, write it. I’ll wait.” 

Hermione put on her stoniest expression, crossed her arms and impatiently tapped her foot. 

With a long suffering sigh, Skeeter extracted her Quick-Quill and began to write. Once it was done, she allowed Hermione to read it through, who smiled and nodded. 

“Much better. Doesn’t the truth feel better?” 

“I would feel much better if you would do an article for Witch Weekly. Perhaps tell the readers, how you came to be enamored with Mr Malfoy? Hm, how does that sound? How about it? School rivals turned lovers?” 

Hermione looked at her in disgust. “I have better things to do with my time than help you write rubbish.” 

With that, Hermione turned on her heel and left. 

Feeling almost shaky with relief, Hermione returned to work. After all of that, she felt a strange sense of satisfaction. It felt exhilarating to have actually accomplished something in her day. It was a feeling she had forgotten. It had been too long since the last time she accomplished anything. 

Unhappily, she realized being married to Ron had slowed her down. Her ambition had dwindled until it had all, but disappeared. It wasn’t entirely Ron’s fault. It was also her own for not pursuing things with the same passion and perseverance as she had done at Hogwarts. Same as it was her fault for allowing herself to get trapped at home, sulking and missing Ron when clearly, she should have left him a long time ago. 

Feeling more like her old self than she had done in years, she tackled her research on Britain’s werewolf population and their current levels of unemployment. Mr Diggory be damned, she was willing to forcibly put this in front of Wizengamot if she had to. 

XXX 

Hermione was tapping her foot anxiously as she waited for the others to catch up with them. She wanted nothing more than to get this over with. Draco put his hand on top of her knee and gave it a squeeze. 

Pansy and Ginny had hardly noticed. They were drinking champagne and looking over all of the merchandise in her shop. They were squealing and pointing out dresses they thought they would like. 

“I can’t do this. Your mother – I can’t deal with her today,” Hermione said feeling frazzled and chewing on her nails since Draco had stopped her from bouncing her leg. 

Now, he took her hands in his and put them down on her lap. His big warm hands were comforting. The rough callouses from Quidditch were soothing too. 

“It’ll be fine, Granger. My father isn’t coming and she rather likes you.” 

“In spite of my Muggleborn heritage,” she said with a pointed look. 

“That counts for less and less with her. In time, I’m sure -” he sighed. “I know how that sounds and I shouldn’t have to ask you to try to forgive her however, I am.” 

Hermione smiled at him. “I understand. She’s your mother.” 

“Speaking of mothers,” Ginny said making it clear both she and Pansy had been eavesdropping. “Mine is on her way.” 

“Mrs Weasley is coming?” 

“Of course, she is,” Ginny said matter-of-factly. “She wouldn’t miss this for the world. Even if she does understand, why you didn’t ask her yourself.” 

At that moment, Mrs Weasley walked into the shop. She was wearing a lovely set of dress robes in magenta with a witch hat. Hermione was so touched, she had dressed up in the outfit George had bought her. All to come help Hermione find a wedding dress, and she wasn’t even marrying her son. 

“Mrs Weasley, I didn’t think you would want to come.” 

“Of course I do! I helped you choose your dress last time and I won’t miss this time either.” 

Hermione was so moved she had to give Mrs Weasley a hug. 

“Thank you so much.” 

“Of course, dear. Anything for my kids,” Molly patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. “Now I know you’re not my child by blood or even marriage anymore, but I still think of you as a daughter.” 

Hermione was blinking back tears. “Oh, Mrs Weasley, that means more to me than you could ever know.” 

Mrs Weasley gave her one more of her warm maternal smiles before turning to face Draco. 

“So Draco Malfoy, I hear you are engaged to one of my daughters.” 

“I am,” Draco said and it might have been Hermione’s imagination, but he looked even paler than usual. “It’s nice to see you again.” 

“I certainly, hope it is,” Mrs Weasley’s voice was measured. 

Hermione suppressed a smile. It was sort of funny to watch Draco squirm. In fact, one of Hermione’s favorite things was watching Mrs Weasley terrify grown men. 

The bell to the shop chimed again and Narcissa Malfoy swept into the shop. She was wearing her usual imperious expression and looked as regal as any queen. 

“Good morning. Pansy lovely to see you as always.” 

“Mrs Malfoy,” Pansy nodded. “Always nice to see my best customer.” 

Narcissa’s smile was cool and she turned to gaze at Mrs Weasley. “Mrs Weasley,” her lips pursed into a thin line. “Isn’t this a little outside of your price range?” 

Mrs Weasley flushed as red as her robes. She turned her chin up. “At least, my husband and I can hold our heads up high knowing we did the right thing during the war.” 

“At least my son isn’t repeating slander to the press,” Narcissa said coldly yet there was a pink tinge to her cheeks. “Spreading vicious lies about my son and his ex-wife. It’s petty and pathetic.” 

In an instant, Mrs Weasley had her wand out and aimed at Narcissa. 

“I won’t pretend to agree with or even approve of everything my son has done, but if you breathe one more bad word about him, I’ll reunite you with your sister.” 

Hermione groaned. This was another reason, she hadn’t invited Mrs Weasley herself. During the battle of Hogwarts, Mrs Weasley had killed Bellatrix Lestrange. Narcissa might be saner than her yet that did not mean, she had not loved her sister. 

“Alright that’s quite enough of that!” Pansy said in ice cold tones. “This is my shop and I have a strict no-violence policy. You can try to hex each other as much as you please, but I can assure you it won’t make a difference as there are anti-violence charms all upon the building.” 

Hermione was impressed and shot Pansy a quick smile of approval. 

“Mrs Weasley, Mrs Malfoy,” Hermione said stepping between them calmly. Draco was right next to her and went to stand by his mother. “If you cannot be civil than I am afraid you are both going to have to leave. I understand there is a lot of bad blood between you.” 

“However,” Draco said smoothly taking over when she felt liable to explode. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “We need to make one thing clear, if Hermione and I can get past the war then so can the two of you.” 

“How romantic,” Ginny rolled her eyes. “Pansy catch me, I think I’m going to swoon.” 

“And if you don’t, you will have to leave as Hermione said. Yes, that includes you mother,” Draco said when his mother opened her mouth to protest. 

Narcissa’s mouth snapped shut. 

The bell chimed over the door and Hermione had never before been happier to see Andrew than she was in this moment. 

“Hello, hello! The party is here!” Andrew announced. He stuck his head out the door again and dragged Heath into the shop. “Don’t be shy, darling.” 

“I’m not shy, I’m disinterested in wedding dress shopping,” Heath complained.   
Hermione giggled into her hand. 

XXX 

Hermione was excited as she Andrew, Heath and Ginny had their bags packed. They were waiting for the Floo network to open up to the location in the tropics. Their luggage was magically expanded and she had more outfits in there then she ever thought she could wear, but Ginny had insisted she take with her. 

Ginny was bouncing from foot to foot, wearing a big grin. Andrew was bouncing right next to her looking like a little kid. Heath was like Hermione checking his watch every two seconds and looking a lot more serious. 

"This is going to be so great!" Ginny squealed and tugged on Andrew's arm. "A whole two weeks away from kids and crying and everyday life!" 

"No office work," Andrew said happily twirling Ginny around. 

Hermione sighed and thought with longing on the house elf report she should be working on as well as the werewolf employment initiative she wanted to finish. 

"No, you don't!" Andrew said seeing the look on her face. "This is going to be great and we will enjoy ourselves, have cocktails, flirt with hot men." 

"I am right here," Heath drawled. 

“Sounds perfect,” Ginny said with a broad grin. 

The fire flared up and the group exchanged smiles. That meant the Floo network was open. 

Andrew went first. He took a fist full of Floo powder from the bag by the chimney. He tossed it in, the flames flared up in green. He stepped into the fireplace and cried out; “Bermuda!” 

Heath and Ginny followed. Hermione was the last one to step into the fireplace. She got a mouth full of smoke and ash, but still managed to cry out; “Bermuda!” 

Fireplaces flashed in front of her eyes and when she saw Andrew and Ginny’s red hair, she hurried out of the fireplace before she could travel a grid too far. She hadn’t done that before, but Harry’s trip down Knockturn Alley in their second year at Hogwarts had scared her sufficiently. 

“Welcome to Bermuda!” Andrew beamed and cheered. “Unfortunately, we aren’t staying.” 

“What are you talking about?” Hermione groaned. 

“Your fiancé had a better idea and we all agreed with him,” Andrew said giving her a serious look. 

“Draco? What’s Draco got to do with anything?” 

No sooner had she said his name than both Harry and Draco came running over. Hermione looked around and saw she was in a hotel lobby in Bermuda, just as planned. What she hadn’t planned was to see Harry or Draco here. This was supposed to be a girl’s trip, well sort of. Andrew and Heath weren’t girls after all. 

“Mione,” Harry grinned. “We’re going to Australia to find your parents.” 

“What? I haven’t decided anything!” 

“Sure you have,” Draco rolled his eyes. “You’re just scared, Granger, which is why we are all coming with you.” 

“To help you explain the situation to your parents,” Ginny told her with a reassuring smile. Then she drew out her wand and aimed it at her. “And if you even think about backing out or going home, I’ll hex you.” 

“Hex me?” Hermione gaped at her. “You wouldn’t.” 

“Sure I would,” Ginny’s smile was evil. “Bat Bogey hexes are my specialty after all. So suck it up, ‘Mione, we’re going to bring your parents back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone, who has read this fic! I'm overwhelmed by it. I am sorry about the wait and I'm excited to hear what you think of this chapter. I'm also sorry about the cliffhanger.   
> \- Izzy


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